Note to Self: Don't Die
by Hypermuffins
Summary: What is one to do when they find themselves in a world completely not their own? A world where magic is real, people wear armor and there is no electricity. Where she discovers just why it is people fear magic. Liz battles against people, demons, and most importantly ... herself. It is survival of the fittest, and she isn't really all that fit.
1. Life's a Bitch

SUMMARY: What is one to do when they find themselves in a world completely not their own? A world where magic is real, people wear armor and there is no electricity. Where Liz must either kill or be killed. A place which, to her, seems like some medieval fantasy novel. Nothing will ever be the same again. It is survival of the fittest, and she isn't really that fit... – Here, have some romance and canon divergence.

I plan to do a lot with this story, so bear with me. Slow going, at first, but picks up pretty quickly. It will be told from two people's POV. Main Character, Liz, and Cole. I will make it clear who's POV it is from, do not fret.

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 **Note to Self: Don't Die**

" _Life's a Bitch"_

Liz always thought that she would end up dying old and decrepit in a comfortable bed living in the suburbs somewhere. Finally move off of the Indian Reservation she was currently on and live in a better place. Maybe she could have a couple of cats, even a significant other if she were that lucky. Though the young woman was more interested in the cats, if she were to be honest.

Her little sister Elise could live happily in an apartment in the basement of her dream home, perhaps with a spouse of her own. Was that too specific? She thought so.

Fortunately, or not depending on who you ask, that would only be half true. The 20 year old Native American woman went to bed just like any other night, grumbling quietly to herself as she threw her blankets over her head haphazardly. A puff of breath left her nose as her mind whirled with ideas and thoughts on what to write her new research project about. But nothing seemed to come to mind. Her thoughts were elsewhere.

College. Exams. EMT Certification. Full-time job. How to keep food on the table for herself and her little sister. Just normal things. She was 20 and practically raising her little sister. It was hard, juggling college and a job. Add her sister in the mix and it's a whole new ballgame.

But ah, the young woman had grown used to it.

Her life simply droned on and on, no end in sight. Everything was beginning to grow stagnant. Still. Swept away in a dull dim world full of empty promises and forged friendships. She felt there was a void that needed to be filled. Something was missing. Something... somewhere. Perhaps it was her lack of friends?

Liz scratched her chest and yawned as she curled into the bed, reveling in the warmth that it offered. The woman, like with any of her other problems, simply pushed it to the back of her mind for later. Hopefully tomorrow would bring a better day.

Her eyes drooped.

 _Elise was supposed to be home by now._ She thought to herself, worrying for her younger sister. But she was old enough to care for herself. Liz's thoughts slowed and her worries slipped away like water through her fingers.

She'd be fine.

Everything dimmed and went dark.

It all happened so quick. She didn't even know how long she'd been asleep. The woman's eyes snapped open when a scream split through the air. Everything in her body told her to run. _Run_.

"Oh my God!" It was muffled by the walls, but the voice sounded familiar. The stench of smoke permeated the air and filtered through her shoddy blanket. Adrenaline was pumping through her system, heart beating wildly. What on Earth was going on?

Her heart nearly jumped right out of her chest when the screams turned into wails of sheer agony. Wails that were deafened by the steady roar of—

 _Fire?_

Liz flew into a seated position and was immediately assaulted with smoke in her eyes. She coughed and slid onto the cluttered floor, trying to get lower to the ground. She was prone, hands pushing away days old clothing and schoolwork. Frantic fingers picked at the hardwood, mind reeling a mile a minute. Brown eyes widened as the haze of sleep snapped.

 _This isn't happening._

That's when she realized that the screaming that she was hearing was from her roommate. _Her little sister._

 _This_ _ **is**_ _happening._

"Elise!" The young woman's voice cracked from the strain, eyes scratchy and full of tears as the smoke only seemed to get thicker and thicker. "Elise, wh-where are you!?"

 _How did this happen?_

The two lived together in a small rundown apartment complex and it was to be expected that something bad would happen eventually. Whether it be burglary or power outages, but _this?_ This was not what she had in mind.

A muffled yell, now. The screams sounded farther away and Liz only hoped that it was because they'd gotten out in time. Another muffled yell, her long black hair was already plastered to the side of her face from the perspiration. From her spot, her door was cracked open just enough to give her a view of their front door. The fire was licking her door frame, the flickering flames eating away at the entrance. Barring exit. Her bedroom door flew open the rest of the way, giving her a start.

Liz yelled, surprised as a pair of legs trotted into the room.

"Fuck! Liz! Lizzy I-" Elise's voice, her little sister. The young girl started hacking and coughing as she stumbled into the bedroom. Her hands flailed about, as if to swat the smoke out of her face. Liz grabbed the young girl roughly and pulled her onto the floor.

Elise hit the hardwood floor with a resounding _'thud!'_ , looking as if she wanted to yell but couldn't. The only thing she could do was cough. Her bright green eyes were shut, tears streaming down. She couldn't open them.

Liz wanted to ask what happened. Why it started, if she knew at all. Had she been asleep, too? But there was no time. They needed to get out of there, quickly.

"We need to get out of here." Was Liz's frantic reply, already taking note of the fact that it looked as if the young girl was having difficulties breathing. Elise was but 17 years old. It couldn't end like this. Not for her. Never for her.

The young girl got into a lot of trouble, sure. But she still had a future ahead of her. Elise needed to live! With that thought in mind, Liz pushed herself into action. Doing the only thing she could think of.

Everything seemed like a blur, her mind barely able to register everything at once. The memory hazy. Whether that was from the traumatic experience itself or lack of oxygen. It was beyond her. Liz's vision blinked _in_. _Out. In_ , glass broke in a shower of glittering glass as she tossed something out her second floor window.

Yelling, so much yelling. The yelling was outside, now. Screams as someone yelled, "Up there!"

The roar of the fire at her back kicked her into overdrive. _Out_. Her vision went dark.

Black. Though she could see nothing, she clearly recalled labored breathing. Frantic, fading. Knowing, just _knowing_ she needed to get her sister out of this. Her sister came first, her sister mattered more. She needed to _live_.

The people outside screamed simultaneously, as if seeing a horrifying sight.

 _In_ , Elise was shrieking profanities as Liz shoved her out the window. Liz watched as her green eyes connected with her brown ones, a look of horror as she fell out the window. The flames were at her back, now. The heat licked at the back of her neck and she just knew her long hair was singed off, dead. Just like-

Nothing.

It was like everything came to a complete stop. The world stuttered and ceased it's rotation. The sound died off, as if behind thick glass. In fact, it was so quiet that Liz half expected to hear her own heartbeat. Her heart should be thudding against her ribcage, galloping at light speed because of what happened. Happened?

Where was she? What was she doing again? Why was she—why was it so dark?

Then, like a flipping of a switch she remembered. Elise. Her little sister. Was she alive? Was she alright? Did they get to her in time?

Liz had taken her sister in after their mother kicked her out. The girls weren't on good terms with their parents and stuck together. Always. They had each other. The young woman felt a jolt of panic at the thought that her sister could be injured. Dead, even.

No no _no_. That couldn't happen, it just couldn't!

It felt like she was floating away, something pulling at her chest. Like a thread. Tugging, teasing. Tempting her into the dark. Somewhere where she knew she'd be unable to come back, unable to see her sister.

Liz wasn't having any of it.

She fought back, wanting nothing more than to make sure that Elise was safe. She _had_ to be safe. The thought that she was probably dead didn't even cross her mind, the only thing she cared about was—

 _'beep beep beep'_

She heard it in the distance, the beeping of a heart monitor. She knew the sound, was familiar with it. The young woman also knew that it shouldn't sound so fast. The person's heart rate, a crescendo into dangerous levels.

 _'beepbeep beepbeep'_

Liz's world shifted and she was able to see, everything around her a heavy green fog/smoke. Rocks floated nearby and the ground was above her head, she was upside down. But none of that seemed to even register to her. She was too focused on the vision before her. Elise's body was in an ambulance, the very thing Liz pretty much lived in when she wasn't in college. Heck, she hardly got to even sleep at home.

The EMT's muffled yet frantic voices. Clattering. The distinct sound of someone using a defibrillator.

 _'THUMP'_ The young girl's body tensed up and fell limp on the cot. Burns shone on her pallid skin. Skin that was once a rich tan. Pale. The people around her began to check her vitals.

Nothing. Again.

 _'THUMP'_

Nothing.

 _Nothing._

Everything fell away.

* * *

There was a call in the distance and Liz could feel herself stir from what seemed like a deep sleep. Everything slowly felt like it was coming into focus again.

It felt like it hurt. It hurt so much. A hollow emptiness stretched so thin, so far, that it _pained_ her. Her chest, her head, her back. But it _shouldn't_ feel that way. She shouldn't feel this way, she shouldn't—

* * *

 _'She died and I couldn't save her. I couldn't protect her.'_ Her own voice echoed sadly, bringing her back into the conscious world. The light swayed and blurred as her eyes cracked open painfully.

There wasn't even a sense of knowing or nothingness that hit her. No one to greet her or some God-like being to tell her how she'd done and judge her accordingly. She just woke up. Yes, that's right. Liz woke up.

The young woman thought that perhaps she would awaken and hear the soft beeps of the heart monitor or the familiar sterile smell of a hospital. The soft but itchy feeling of the blankets laid atop her as she opened her eyes and stared at a tiled ceiling.

That was not the case. Far from so, in fact, that it jarred her awake. _This shouldn't be-_

Instead the smell of burnt rubber and meat permeated the air around her. The surface she was laying on felt gritty and unforgiving. She groaned, fingers twitching experimentally. A small rock was in her hand, connected with a broken thread of leather. Brushing that thought aside, she tried to recall any previous events.

Where was she? Why was she so tired? Why was she hurting so much?

She remembered the accident, her sister dying, then waking up only to wake up... again? Something didn't add up, there. Liz's whole body felt overly sensitive, like every nerve ending was on fire and flipped into overdrive.

Her eyes cracked open again, the light jabbing daggers into her sensitive eyes. Slowly, she pushed herself off of the ground with one shaky heave. It took more effort than it should have and upon closer inspection she had been laying on a rather charred and blackened section of land. Sloshing of water filtered through her ears, along with the deathly silent forest around her.

Liz knew the animals always got silent when something disturbed their habitat and the thought caused her body to tense. But when her gaze slowly dragged upward. Up and up. Even her eyes were sluggish.

She was informed just why that was. Why the animals were quiet. Why it smelled like burnt flesh and rubber. The scene swayed as her head bobbed in disbelief. Terror gripped her insides.

"Wha—aughh." The young woman coughed and turned away from the sight, feeling her stomach clench and threaten to spew it's contents onto the soot-filled ground.

There were numerous bodies splayed in front of her, smoke and steam sizzling and filtering into the air through their armor. That's _definitely_ where the smell was coming from, she realized. The thought itself seemed to break whatever semblance of control she may have had on her stomach.

She gagged and began to regurgitate onto the ground between her knees. The woman's hands braced onto the ground and after the heaving seemed to calm, she noticed just how _small_ her hands seemed to be. Why were they so small?

Matted brown hair fell like a tattered curtain around her dirt covered face, reminding her just how _wrong_ this all was. Brown? Liz's hands twitched and she opened her hand, looking at the small rock in her hand.

 _'I couldn't save her.'_

She clenched her jaw and pocketed the odd thing, refusing to think about where her sister could be or why she was suddenly out in the middle of nowhere. Could it be that perhaps it was all just a dream? Was this a dream? Her breathing shuddered and her lungs burned. Dreams didn't hurt.

Okay okay, she needed to get herself together. Panicking would not get her anywhere. If she didn't look at the bodies, perhaps she could find the strength to stand up. Stand up. Get up. Leave. Get out of here.

Get out. Get out. Like a mantra. Keeping her mind on one task. Ignoring what was in front of her. She couldn't...

Liz's legs wobbled like a newborn foal's, her body seemed almost too heavy. It took a few attempts and a few scraped knees later, but she was able to stumble away from the grisly scene. It wasn't right. None of it made sense.

Hadn't she been at her apartment? Was she drugged and hallucinating in the hospital?

She coughed, the pain grounding her to this world. Her legs were getting cut up from the foliage, her hands ripping away at the greenery. Liz cared not for all of the noise her fumbling body was making. The wildlife was still silent. Still.

There had to be a road somewhere, right? Her tired eyes scanned the area sloppily, trees. Trees and more trees. She was in the middle of a forest of some sort. She couldn't hear anything, only the hesitant chirp of birds as she got farther and farther from the carnage behind her.

Every time she tried to call for help, her voice cracked. A whisper.

How long has she been walking? Probably not that long at all, in fact. But her body felt as though it had been severely deprived of any type of food or water for days. The fatigue and how shaky she seemed to be just by walking at such a slow pace was a giveaway of the state in which her body had been left in. The stick she'd picked up to use as support wasn't helping in the least.

A road. Or what she assumed could be a road. It taunted her in the distance, much farther than she felt she was even able to accomplish. She'd gotten this far. She had to.

"What have I gotten myself into, this time?" Liz wondered aloud, voice sounding so much different than it should. Smaller, maybe. She couldn't really tell because of how scratchy her throat was.

Her walking stick stabbed the dirt and cracked, splitting in two. Her body tumbled with the lack of support, face first into the grass.

Liz didn't feel like she could go on anymore. Her eyes drooped, exhaustion taking hold. Scrapes and bruises blotted her already battered body.

 _I died and I'm going to die again._

 _Great._

She listened. For what? Cars, maybe. And that's when she heard the distant sound of hoof beats, causing her to lift her head weakly. The broken walking stick lay behind her as she clenched the soft grass beneath her palms.

Normally, the sound of people approaching her in the middle of nowhere would have put her on guard. But she couldn't find it in her to care. Emotionally and physically depleted. Drained.

"That's her! That's the kid." Someone hollered, voice traveling across the vast expanse of the field she'd been crawling across. Liz peeked up through her matted hair and located the source of the voice. A man in shiny plate armor sat atop a large black horse. The beast stood tall with a well groomed mane, holding the warrior proudly. He came to a halt a short distance away and began to dismount, metal clinking and leather groaning under the weight.

That's the last thing she saw before her vision decided to short out, like someone pulled the plug on a television. The last thought she had was wondering why anyone would cosplay in such ridiculously heavy looking armor.

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x0x0

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 **Reviews are life.** Your thoughts are important to me. Seriously, it's the only way I know if anyone actually likes this story. Any feedback is good feedback (unless you're flaming just to be an asshole, then please at least be a bit more constructive will you?) Replies will either be through PM, for those with accounts, or here for the guest reviewers. The version of this story on AO3 has pictures~. Just saying. ;3


	2. Restart

_"_ _Reincarnation is_ _the religious or philosophical concept that the soul or spirit, after biological death, can begin a new life in a new body."_

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" _Restart"_

 _'Where am I?'_

Her world swayed to and fro. The clip clop of hooves filled the air, causing her head to throb. The chirping of birds usually didn't bother her much, but today it felt like the sound itself was akin to a jackhammer drilling it's way into her skull. Where the crisp air should feel refreshing as it entered her lungs. It burned. Her mouth felt like it was full of cottonballs.

In short, Liz felt like complete and utter crap.

It didn't help that the platform she was laying on was hitting numerous bumps, the wood creaking and groaning. Liz felt like she was hungover. But she knew better.

"...evelyan …. crest." A male was speaking idly from nearby. Though in her pained state, it was difficult to make much out.

"Yes."

The voices were coming from above her, she realized. But she couldn't seem to focus in and hear anything.

The young woman let out a groan, cracking her eyes open.

Bad idea.

Overcast skies were a blessing in disguise, because the sun itself would have caused more pain. Liz knew the familiar feeling of dehydration and it seemed her state had only worsened since passing out. Not to mention she didn't even know if these people were dangerous.

"She's awake." Someone spoke, voice so clear. Oh Gods, they aren't kidnappers are they? The last thing she remembered was the smell of burning corpses and the sound of sizzling flesh. Her brown eyes narrowed into pinpricks as her breathing elevated, heart threatening to beat it's way out of her chest.

They were going to kill her, weren't they? Were they the ones that killed those men? Did-

No. She had to keep herself together and think this through. Panicking would only serve to make things worse. What happened last time she panicked? The young woman slowed her breathing, thoughts whizzing a mile a minute. Trying, but failing, to sort through things.

A shadow appeared above her, a man. He was holding out an object to her, "Here, kid. Bet yer thirsty."

Was it drugged? She flinched but was in no position to deny help as he hefted her into a seated position. She leaned back against the wood siding of the cart. A cart? Liz's eyes flicked back as she observed the man closely. His beard was scraggly with braids in it, salt and pepper hair. Middle aged?

"Come on, take it." He sounded gruff as he shoved a canteen of some sort in front of her face. The woman shifted and held her hands up to grab it, only to freeze.

Why did her hands look so small? Liz stared down at her hands, feeling …. wrong. Why did it feel so wrong? She was more tan than usual, hands thinner. Smaller. Not right. This wasn't right.

Breath in. Out. In. In? Can't breathe. Can't- She was dizzy. Vision blurring-

"Hey, ya alright?" A big hand was placed on her shoulder, not good. She let out a cry and scrambled back. Or, she attempted to. She'd already been against a wood surface. The man seemed to get the hint and let go, turning his body away as if to appear less threatening. Her eyes darted around frantically. Out out. She needed out. Out of this place, this... this.

 _'I had died. Died and …. and then what? What_ happened _to me?'_ Was the first coherent thought that flitted through her head, _**'Where am I?'**_

It wasn't right.

"Oy!"

 _'Get away from me!'_ She shrieked inwardly, the blood draining from her face. The only noise that escaped was a hiss, eyes wild like a spooked animal. _'Away!'_

The man held his hands up in the universal 'surrender' gesture before setting the canteen down and scooting back. "Alrigh' Alrigh', I'll be over here. Hm?"

She still felt small under his steely gaze as she slowly started to come out of her panicked state. It took minutes but it felt like hours. There were a few other people sitting on the front of the cart steering some horses. Others rode atop their own as they ambled on each side. Why was she in an old fashioned wooden cart? Why were these people decked out in medieval armor? Armor that ranged from shiny but worn steel to hardened leather chest pieces.

None of it made sense.

"Your father sent a search party out for ya, girlie. Yer lucky yer even alive." He spoke after she'd hesitantly grabbed the canteen. Liz refused to look up at the man. Her eyes zeroed in on the opening of the odd object, examining it critically. The woman sniffed it and took a sip, as if to test it.

It seemed okay, but she couldn't resist the urge to guzzle the whole thing. Water dribbled on the sides of her dirt caked face. The crisp clean taste greeted her parched tongue and it was like absolute heaven. Once she was finished, her nostrils flared and took in lungfuls of oxygen. As if she'd forgotten to breathe as she gulped all of the contents of the canteen. Liz looked up at the man, eyes narrowed through her matted brown locks.

Father? Her father wouldn't care one bit if she'd gotten kidnapped. Nonetheless her mother, for that matter. So Liz squinted suspiciously at him, lowering the canteen hesitantly. What were his intentions? Why would he lie so openly?

"Not much of a talker, is she?" A woman called from the front and chuckled. The trees around them slowly started to thin out as they rounded a bend in the road. Open fields came into view, bordered by high stone fences. A lone building was positioned in the middle of all the greenery. A mansion of some sort.

The young woman blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of everything. She'd heard of LARPing communities, before. Liz was not new to the idea, as she'd done something similar at one point in her life. She'd gotten into a D&D craze before she'd gotten swept away into college and work related events. But this was on a whole new level.

Her eyes slowly slid to the front of the cart, where two brown horses pulled them to their destination. One of the animals whinnied and tossed it's head, the cart shaking as they hit some bumps.

"What is this place?" Liz finally spoke up, finally feeling the need to get answers. She was almost tempted to demand where they were taking her. But that wouldn't do much good. She figured that, perhaps once she arrived at the nearest house, she could use a telephone.

Why did everything look different? Why did she feel different? The world itself seemed... odd. Like she was more sensitive to everything. So colorful. Vibrant. Almost blinding, still. Even after the haze of sleep slipped away like a receding fog in her mind.

Though she brushed that last thought off as the after-effects of her exhausted slumber.

Her question gained the attention of the man with salt and pepper hair, his hand scratched at his beard as he stared at her with a troubled look in his eyes. It was hard to gauge his expression, due to his facial hair. But his eyes said enough.

"The Trevelyan estate. How hard did ya hit yer head?" He asked and Liz's eyebrows knitted together. Hit her head? It would explain some of the confusion. Perhaps a concussion? But that still didn't explain why these people were dressed so oddly. Liz lifted her hand up to rub her forehead, but her fingers came into contact with cloth. Bandages?

Talking could only dig herself a deeper hole than she already was in, so she remained quiet after that. This estate, after all, might hold more answers for her. During her silence, she idly began to give herself a checkup. Running her hands along her legs for bumps and bruising, making sure she had full mobility of her limbs, etc.

It didn't take long until the cart entered through an ornate gate. The metal squealed as it shut behind them and the wooden cart came to a halt. The occupants began piling out of the contraption. The grumpy man with salt and pepper hair even tried to help her out of the cart, but she wasn't having any of it. Liz didn't even want to exit. She didn't know where they were. She didn't know these people.

So she just sat there in the cart and stared at the man as he waved his hand to help her out.

"Come on." Grumpy griped, wriggling his calloused fingers as he glared down at her. Yes, down. Even out of the cart he appeared bigger than her. What sorcery was this?

Before she had time to react, she was being yanked out of the cart by her arm. Liz let out a cry of protest, her body slid and she was set on the ground roughly. Grumpy's meaty hands likely left a bruise, with how roughly he'd grabbed her. The young woman stumbled but was steadied as the man refused to let her go.

"Was that really necessary?" She questioned after she'd ripped her arm out of his grip, rubbing the sore spot with a look of ire. Grumpy didn't look much different as he glared down at her, as if she were merely a brat.

"Listen here, you little twerp." He snapped, reaching out to grab her again. On account of the fact that Grumpy was so much larger than her and far more intimidating than his brethren, Liz panicked. What was he going to _do_?

She registered it as a threat. He was going to hurt her.

The young woman backpedaled and held up her hands in a defensive stance.

"Don't touch me!" The only response she got was an irritated growl as he took a menacing step forward. That's when everything lit up, red and orange hues roaring through the air and blinding her. The heat hit her face and caused her brown eyes to water. She squinted and heard the man yell in agony.

There was a flurry of action as his buddies took notice, along with an older couple who had been coming out of the mansion to greet the group.

"She's a _mage!_ " Grumpy hissed accusingly, followed by the sound of singing metal. Like someone unsheathing a sword.

She screamed and covered her face, forcing the images out of her head. Fire fire. So much _fire_. Blistering, burning, bubbling under her skin. It was as if she was there, again. Pushing her sister out of the window, the heat on her back. What her skin felt like as it began to peel off of her body.

It played in front of her eyes like a horror film. Only she was forced to _feel_ everything. Smell everything. Hear—oh god the screams. The screams-

Screaming? No, it was just her. _She_ was the one screaming.

But Liz was frozen, the light finally gone. Died out. She'd just—Had she just? What?

Muffled voices registered and she felt her body being yanked around as she was pushed behind someone. Her mind registered safe. _Safe_.

"Father you cannot be serious!" A male's voice protested as her hearing popped back into place. Liz's whole body felt even more exhausted, thanks to her current situation. It wasn't real, right? She hadn't just—she didn't just burn a man's face off, right? That'd be ludicrous!

Her eyes snapped up, looking for the man to prove herself wrong. Unfortunately, she spotted Grumpy being tended to by one of his friends. His beard and eyebrows completely singed off, along with bits of his hair. No serious damage. But...

 _How?_

"We have to send her off, Maxwell. Mages belong in the tower." An older man reasoned with the person shielding her. "Erin needs this. Allowing her to stay is a danger to herself and others."

 _Mage?_ He's got to be kidding, right? There was no such thing as mages!

The situation proved otherwise.

"You would send your own daughter off, just like that?" The man shielding her spoke in protest, obviously not liking the thought.

His daughter? Erin?

"It's for the best. Now take your sister to her room to pack."

"Yes, Father..." He turned around and looked down at Liz. She was still shaken, scared, surrounded by people she didn't know. This man, she didn't know him either. Maxwell, they'd addressed him. "Come on."

She didn't protest. Couldn't. Liz's legs were on autopilot as the young man held her hand and guided her into the large mansion and up some marble stairs. Their feet clicked on the hard surface.

"Who are you people?" Liz all but demanded, finally stopping her feet from moving. She was done. Done with this acting, this stupid game they were playing. That fire had to have been some sick joke, right? Perhaps it was all a dream.

Maxwell stopped, too. His black hair shifted as he tilted his head to the side to stare at the young woman incredulously. Almost as if she'd said possibly the most absurd thing ever.

"Who—Erin...are you..." His voice, though thick with a European accent, grew silent as he stared down at her worriedly. His eyes trailed down to her neck and chest area and his eyes narrowed. "Where is your necklace?"

"Necklace." Liz ignored his blatant misuse of name. Though she had not introduced herself, they obviously believed her to be this Erin person. The young woman dug into her pocket and pulled out the odd rock attached to a leather strip. "This thing? I was holding it when I awoke. But back to the matter at hand. Do you have a telephone that I could use?"

She tried to keep her tone as level as possible. Which, on normal days, never proved to be an issue. But something in the back of her head was screaming at her that everything was wrong. So so wrong. Nothing was the same. She wasn't where she thought she was.

Maxwell continued to stare down at her, even more confused than before. Though any suspicion on his face seemed to have disappeared after she showed him the rock. Especially when his gaze lifted and focused on her forehead. Or, more precisely, the wound she'd likely sustained from a fall.

"Master Trevelyan, is there a problem?" A maid asked as she skittered by, her tapered ears peeking out from underneath her cropped brown hair. Elf?

"No, Maria. I am fine. Could you go and get us some tea?"

"Yes, Master Trevelyan." She bowed and took off down the hallway. Liz was then toted off by the hand as Maxwell forcefully dragged her down the hallway and into a bedroom. This should have set off warning bells for her, but for some unknown reason she trusted him. She didn't get all jumpy with him. Why was that?

The man, who was just a boy really, began shoving articles of clothing into Liz's arms before turning and grabbing a bag from underneath the bed. He was in a hurry for something. She observed him. He couldn't have been much younger than she. Seeing as how she was in her early twenties.

"What's going on?" He didn't answer, only continuing on with his mission. When he did talk, however, he was only babbling on about getting her out of there as soon as possible. Something about a Sending Crystal. Which he'd pointed out was actually that rock in her pocket.

She sensed no ill-will from the young man. Though she'd known trustworthy faces to turn sour at the most opportune moment. People could turn on you in a blink of an eye. Just like that. Liz was not letting her guard down anytime soon. So she was left in silence in an adjoining bathroom. The woman changed into a simple grey tunic and some black pants. The material was rather heavy, keeping her warm.

"I appreciate the change of clothing, but..." She paused in the doorway to the bathroom and looked up at the young man with a frown. "Why will you not let me use the telephone? I want to go home."

"You are home." Maxwell seemed even more concerned as he tied the backpack shut, "What is a _tell-eepon_?" He butchered the pronunciation, a genuine look of confusion crossing his features. He didn't seem to be lying when he asked. The thought caused Liz's stomach to turn. What was going on?

Maxwell shook off the question and shoved a cloak of some sort into her arms, followed by the backpack.

"You must leave, now." He said very seriously as he turned to the door, which was shut. "The templars will be here soon to take you to the Circle Tower. I will distract them."

What was a Circle Tower? What did templars do? Why did everyone look so afraid when … when they'd figured out she was a mage? Though, she couldn't disagree. She was afraid, too. Afraid of herself. She could conjure fire. _Fire_. An impossibility. It shouldn't be possible. But it was. Wasn't it?

If she continued to think about it, her brain was going to glitch.

"Why are you allowing me to leave?" Liz asked a genuine question. She'd done nothing for him. He turned, his reddish-brown eyes shone with concern. She stared at the odd tattoo that seemed to encompass his right eye.

"No time to talk. Now." He began to rush her down the hallway again, the backpack heavy against her shoulders and knocking against her back. "The woods should provide ample coverage. Go East until you get to the Frostbacks. Get back to Ferelden and we'll figure something out. Find somewhere secluded. I will contact you through the Sending Crystal."

"But-" _how? What is a Ferelden? The Frostbacks? What?_

"I'll keep them busy for as long as I can. Run now, questions later. Now leave." She opened her mouth to speak again, but was cut off again. "Erin... please. I just got you back, but I can't... I can't let them take you there. Anywhere but _there_."

With the expression he was making, she couldn't. She couldn't. Something inside of her gave a twist, familiarity picking at the back of her head. She should know him. He knew her, but she didn't know him. Liz knew that she'd never met the young man before.

The situation proved otherwise.

Right. Right. Go East until she gets to a Frostback, right. Should be easy enough. Who was she kidding, she didn't even know where she was!

"I don't think-" She was, yet again, cut off. Only this time by an older man, who was fast walking down the corridor. His eyes were locked on their figures as they stood in front of a rather large ornate door that led to a back garden of some sort. Liz simply stared and watched as the young man turned from worried to frantic.

"Maxwell!" The older man called. Max paled and turned his head, making Liz think maybe she should run from this man that approached. He had a regal air about him as he strode forth and looked down at Max with a grim look upon his wizened features, "Son, what do you think you are doing?"

"I-It's not what it looks like?" Maxwell tried to defend. Liz simply stood beside him with a confused glint in her eyes, the backpack on her shoulders evidence enough of his attempt at sending her off. It didn't bode well for the young man.

"Young man, you know as well as I that abiding by the laws of this country during our stay..." He trailed off and snapped his attention on Liz, who was slowly inching toward the door. "Erin, please. You'll simply be put in one of their Circle towers until they can make the transfer."

"Father!"

"No, I will not hear it. I am just about done with your attitude, Maxwell." The man snapped, "Do you realize how many strings I'm going to have to pull to cover _this_ up?"

The way he motioned toward Liz when he said 'this' seemed to cause the young man before her to snarl and put an arm in front of her. Was he protecting her? " _To cover this up_. That's all you care about! She's your daughter! My sister!"

With that, the young woman turned and bolted out the door. She heard a yelled _'Erin!'_ from Maxwell's father, but paid it no heed. Her feet dug into the cold ground as she caught sight of a treeline just on the other side of the garden. Said garden was massive, almost unnecessarily so.

Liz no longer felt the exhaustion that her body had felt minutes ago as adrenaline pumped through her, egging her on.

As the woman rounded the corner, she saw Grumpy in the process of jogging around the corner. His salt and pepper beard was now half singed off, his eyebrows missing. He looked absolutely livid. Evidently he'd heard the elder Trevelyan's yells for her to stop.

"Not this time." He snapped and was about to grab onto Liz as she ran toward him. Her momentum kept her going and she found it impossible to stop. Especially when she felt her foot catch on something, sending her tumbling to the ground. The man grunted and the young woman rolled passed him, then scrambled to stand up.

She could get away! She was about to-

Her face exploded in pain, her head hitting an unforgiving surface as she cried out. Liz felt her body get thrown back to the ground as Grumpy wrestled to keep her in place.

"L-Let me go!" Liz yelled, struggling as much as her body would let her. It was disconcerting to realize that she, for some reason, didn't have the strength that she knew she should have. But she chalked it up to exhaustion and dehydration as the cause. "I did not mean to hurt you. Just let me go!"

"Shut up, _mage_." He hissed, pushing her into the ground further. "Your father may be of noble blood. You're still just a monster."

The way he spoke, as if he'd seen and witnessed too much. Witnessed what mages were capable of. Liz pushed against the dirt and snow, trying but failing to free herself. When he yanked her into a standing position, she was nearly lifted off of the ground and pushed against the side of the house. Her nose hit the paneling and she could have sworn she heard a crack. Liz let out a pained whimper.

What were these people going to do with her? Magic was real? A mage? Were they crazy?!

"You get your hands off of my sister!" Maxwell's angry voice yelled from around the corner. She felt the pressure on her back lessen as the sound of bodies colliding erupted from just behind her. The young man was grappling and punching Grumpy, who looked more than willing to get into a scrap with the kid.

With swift ease only someone with combat experience had, he flipped the tables and tossed the kid aside. Maxwell stumbled and fell onto his back, his hands digging into the dirty snow as he tried to get back up. Yelling could be heard around the front of the mansion, followed by the sounds of heavy clanking and footsteps.

Liz felt frozen, like her legs couldn't work. Especially when about three heavily armored men came toward her with their swords brandished. Her hand was covering her nose, trying to stop the blood. Her face felt like it was on fire and her head pounded from the strike she'd endured.

"Get the cuffs." One of the men ordered, his voice muffled by the helmet on his head.

"Erin, run!"

"Shut up, ya git!" Grumpy struggled with Maxwell as he flailed about. The young man had a worried frown on his busted lip. He looked a little worse for the wear. His short black hair was disheveled and tanned face already sporting a few bruises.

Maybe the older man was right. If she was a mage, was she really a monster? She was...

She could hurt people with a simple thought. Liz shook her head, thinking of how absolutely ludicrous that even sounded. Mages? Magic? If she hadn't witnessed what she did moments ago, she would think that these people were crazy. Insane. Maybe making things up. But that all seemed unlikely. The loss of Grumpy's hair proved otherwise.

While she was deep in thought, she failed to realize that one of the armored men had clasped some odd looking cuffs over her wrists. She was ripped back into the present as the vibrancy seemed to dim. The world seemed almost further away, if that made any sense. The itch in the back of her mind was nearly non-existent.

"You can't use your magic with these on, so don't even think about it."

"What?" She asked, only to get yanked toward the front of the house. She was being detained? These people weren't even cops! Liz was handed off to another man, her body jerking as she tried to right herself. "You can't just cuff me for absolutely no reason. Who do you think you are?"

"You can call me Ser Bradford, kid. We're templars. Didn't your parents teach you these things?" The man asked from underneath the helmet, his hands guided her were a bit more gentle than the man behind her. The designs on his shiny armor, an upward facing sword, seemed a bit more worn than the others. He paused when they got to the cart, a woman stood in front of it. Her black hair was tied back and her brown eyes stared at the man holding Liz. "Knight-Captain?"

"I was on my way through. What's the status?" The woman stated, her voice a bit rougher than most women. Her eyes seemed to scan Liz's much smaller frame critically, probably taking in her haggard appearance.

"Ah, we were called over due to a young mage developing her abilities. She hurt one of the men in the process. No fatalities."

"That is fortunate." The woman nodded, her arms uncrossed, showing her breastplate was more intricate than that of the other three men. Liz blinked, but didn't put up any resistance as they loaded her into the cart.

"F-Fatalities? You think I'd try to kill that man? Are you insane?" Liz gritted out, trying to keep her temper under control.

"Not intentionally, no. When mages first develop their abilities, most of the time the outcome is quite unstable. Chaotic, even." The woman explained as she crawled into the cart with Liz. She stared down at her with an odd glint in her eye. Maybe pity? Or concern? The other men, the ones in the front with their helmets off, seemed almost taken aback at her actions. "That is where we come in. As a templar, it is our duty to protect the mages. Even if that means it is from themselves."

Liz didn't miss the undertone of that last sentence. The woman wanted to deny that any of this was even real. That it was all a dream. But the stinging sensation that followed as the Knight-Captain woman began wiping away the blood on her face was a reminder.

Her brown eyes met the woman's brown eyes and they stared at one another, expressions equally as blank. She was quite beautiful, with her black hair tied back in a braid of some sort.

"What will you do with me?" Liz swallowed, not liking the way the woman's face seemed to shift slightly. Deep down, Liz seemed to know what these people were going to do to her. She had a hard time even accepting these things were happening. But there she was, in the middle of it all.

And she had to be a mage, of all things. Liz had never liked mages. In any of the games she'd played. Even Dungeons and Dragons. There was always a price of some sort to pay in return for having such power. What was going to happen to her? Was she going to end up hurting people? Was that why they were taking her away?

Why did they call her Erin? Erin Trevelyan.

When the templar woman didn't answer, she simply flicked her gaze down to her hands. Her hands, which were much too small to be her own. Her hands, which showed a skin tone much darker than her own. Her hands... which looked too delicate to be hers. The callouses from years of work and jumping from job to job, gone. Even the scars that were supposed to be on her forearm were gone. Though she couldn't really complain about those.

What was going on?

* * *

It took a good part of the day before they even came upon any type of civilization. And when they did, she couldn't help but notice how people seemed to keep a generous distance from the cart that she was in. They looked at her, fear in their eyes.

That was when Liz knew how the people viewed mages in this world.

Fear. Hate. Anger, even. It was all painfully evident. There was always a reason for everything, she knew. As rational as she tried to remain, even after sitting all day on a hard wood bench. Liz's butt hurt. Fortunately she was given water and bread, in the very least.

Once they neared the ornate golden gates, the templar woman departed from the rest of them. They screeched and squealed as they opened, letting the cart into the city. The young mage still had no clue where this city was. But it was bustling with activity.

The Knight-Captain nodded as she turned and walked off toward the center of the city, some stalls and a crowd of people in the distance. Ser Bradford had followed suit, after speaking to the two men at the front. Apparently they had some things to do. It didn't go unnoticed by Liz just how differently the other templars acted after the woman, Evangeline, and Ser Bradford left. The two seemed to be the nicer of the bunch.

The cart approached a very tall white building. The clip clop of the hooves only seemed to make Liz's nerves even worse. Her legs wouldn't stay still and the giddy feeling in her gut definitely wasn't a good one.

Her bad feelings were confirmed once they stopped and the armor clad men came back to yank her out of the cart roughly. They didn't even speak, nor did they look at her.

"What the hell? I'm not even putting up any resistance." Liz snapped, trying but failing to pull her arm out of the man's bruising grip.

"Shut up." The man turned his icy glare at her, blue eyes threatening to pierce through her. She returned the glare, gritting her teeth and hissing like a wild animal. Something inside of her churned and her hair stood on end, a defensive response.

"Edward, Ser Bradford said-" _Pop!_ A small crack of electricity caused the two men to flinch and let go. Almost like static. "Gah! How?!"

Liz felt the anger underneath threatening to burst forth. She'd been being very compliant and spoke very little. No back-talk. No snarky remarks. She thought she was doing very well for a person that didn't even know where she was. But their attitude toward her, on top of the way people seemed to stare at her, seemed to cinch it. _That was it._

"I've been very patient. I don't know where I am. Hell, I don't even-" Liz was cut off from her explanation as the man used the hilt of his sword to hit the middle of her head. The last thing she saw before the world went black was the angered blue eyes of the templar named Edward.

Again, the young woman's vision would occasionally blink in and out. It was reminiscent of her last minutes on Earth. She remembered. The roar of the fire. The smoke causing her eyes to water.

Liz swore she opened her eyes to see the deadly red hue of fire, licking at the edges of her peripheral. The room was dark, then she'd blink and she'd be looking up at someone as they tried to get her to focus. A blank look on pale features, wiping at her face in languid motions.

A muffled voice, "She is..."

She'd blink, then black. Nothing.

What was going on? Was she still at her house, with the fire? Was she really in this odd world with mages and people in armor?

It was all confusing and only seemed to cause her head to hurt even more.

She opened her eyes again and the flames were hot. _Hothothot._ So hot. Her skin was bubbling, boiling, breaking away from her body. She screamed. Or, at least, she tried. But nothing would come out. Her body wouldn't move. Why wouldn't it—

And just like that, she blinked and it was gone. Liz gasped for air, taking in the oxygen like she had been deprived. Her brown eyes darted around the room frantically, taking in the surroundings.

A room. She was in a room? A light flickered somewhere out of her vision, the window at her left sent the sun pouring in. White curtains were pulled aside, allowing ample illumination. She focused on the white popcorn ceiling, trying to steady her breathing. She wasn't—wait, where was she? The last thing she remembered was … was.

The templars. The templar, Edward, had hit her with the hilt of his sword.

But wait. Liz blinked, feeling the haze of sleep leave her mind and clear her thoughts. Was she back on Earth? Was that all simply a dream?

The woman let out a sigh of relief and chuckled lightly. Of course it was. Mages weren't real.

Even so, she felt exhausted. Dirty, too. She sat up, feeling her abdominal muscles cry out in protest. "Grrrgh..." She grunted, letting her eyes drift around the room carefully. It was a rather plain room with a dresser and a closed cupboard.

An odd looking hospital room, for sure. But who was she to complain? Liz let her feet hit the cold white tiles in the room as she made her way over to the sink, a mirror placed in front of it. She fully intended to wash herself, but came to a screeching halt. She stood in front of the mirror and felt her knees wobble.

 _'What...what is_ _ **this**_ _?'_ Her thoughts, even in her head, seemed loud and disbelieving. Liz stared into the mirror, but saw an unknown woman staring back. Or, rather, a young girl. The girl couldn't have been more than 17 years old, at most. Her tanned skin had freckles sprinkled everywhere, wide frightened brown eyes. Her ash brown hair, tumbling passed her shoulders and down her back, was a complete matted mess.

That wasn't Liz.

It wasn't.

 _ **Who was that?**_

Fear. It curled in her gut and caused her stomach to turn cold. The girl looked back at her with a similar expression, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Liz took a step back. So did the girl. Neither seemed to want to look away as she turned and clawed at the door. Out out. She needed out!

That wasn't right, it wasn't!

The young woman ripped the door open and jumped out into a hallway, which was mostly empty. Mostly, because she flew right into someone and caused them to fall over. Liz stumbled and let out a squeak of some sort, her gaze locking onto a young man on the ground. They looked at one another. She could have sworn he looked afraid, too. His blue eyes peeked out from underneath dirty blonde hair, locking onto her own. As if he expected her to attack him. The young man shifted, his dirty leather clothing illuminated by the sunlight from the stained glass windows in front of her.

"S-Sorry." Liz stuttered out, then promptly turned and ran. Her bare feet slapped against the ornate tiles, her breathing becoming ragged.

She wasn't back on Earth. She wasn't home. She was—she was.

She turned the corner and skidded to a halt. Liz saw a huge common area of some sort, tables set in neat rows and book shelves against the walls. People milled about, most wearing robes. Others were standing guard at the doors and by the windows, wearing armor. Templars.

She wasn't back on Earth.

Liz felt tears pool into her eyes. This wasn't right. It wasn't real!

"Apprentice, why are you out of bed? I had instructed you to remain in bed until further notice." A flat tone rang at her right, causing her to blink away the tears and look at the owner. She stared, seeing a woman with pale skin. Her red hair fell passed her shoulder in a single braid, revealing her pointed ears. Her eyes looked dead. Or, rather, devoid of emotion. Liz couldn't help but notice a brand in the middle of her forehead.

"This is-isn't real." She muttered in response.

"You suffered a concussion. It is in your best interest to remain in the medical wing until one of the healers return to treat you." She smiled, but it seemed almost _wrong_. It was so painfully obvious that the smile was fake. What was wrong with her?

"Are you okay?" Liz asked, tilting her head to the side as she observed the odd woman.

"I am well. Allow me escort you back to your room." When she reached out to grab Liz's arm, she didn't even flinch away like she normally would with people. Something about her made her think that she wouldn't try anything. Wouldn't hurt her.

When they got back to the infirmary, there was a man already there waiting. A healer of some sort, she was sure. He, too, appeared to be a mage. She thought as such due to the fact that she recognized his face from her moments of consciousness when they brought her here. Not to mention the, seemingly, customary robes he wore.

Imagine her surprise when she was seated and treated with magic, itself. His hands didn't even need to touch her as the feeling washed over her like a soothing waterfall. The warmth curled and swept across her skin, melting any pain she'd had away.

There were many questions. Many that she knew would remain unanswered. She thought perhaps she'd already overused her allotted amount of 'dumb questions' for the day, as it was. Anything she seemed to ask got an odd look out of whoever was around. That and the tall man had one of those 'don't mess with me' type of vibes. He was all business, no small talk. Nothing. He didn't even try to be friendly as he sent her on her way with the odd woman from before.

Speaking of the odd woman, she'd been lingering nearby so silently Liz didn't even notice her.

"I have been instructed to show you to your temporary quarters." She spoke as she walked down the hallway. Liz remained close, avoiding the eyes of any that seemed to look her way. "You are to be transported to another Circle in Ferelden. We were informed of your family's vacation and unfortunate circumstance."

"When will that be?"

"It is not up to me when they will allow you to be transferred."

The woman answered without even batting an eye. It was more like Liz was speaking to a computer, now that she thought of it.

"Ferelden, where is that?"

"East of the Frostback Mountains. You currently reside in Orlais in a city called Val Royeaux." She responded without a beat, likely thinking the young woman must be suffering some sort of memory loss. Her concussion might have been the best thing yet. Having to explain her lack of knowledge to these people could cause problems.

"How long will my transfer take?" She asked again, now knowing what a Frostback was. It was the name of a mountain range, she assumed. That helped a bit.

"Transfers generally take months, at most." A new voice spoke from the doorway behind them. Liz turned, seeing a woman leaning against the door frame. Her hair was a huge mass of blonde curls, framing her ivory face. She smirked, "Looks like you didn't go down without a fight, eh?"

She must have been referring to Liz's face.

"I suppose you could say that." Liz responded in a neutral tone, unsure how she was supposed to feel about this woman.

"Sheryl, at your service." She introduced in a sarcastic tone before turning to the elven woman at Liz's side, "You are dismissed, Helena."

The elven woman, Helena, bowed and exited the room at a lazy pace. Once she was gone, the redheaded human turned to look at Liz. She could have sworn she shivered.

"Don't they give you the creeps?"

"What? Elves?" Liz asked and tilted her head. A little racist, wasn't it? She didn't think so. But she could see where someone could form that opinion, considering how big their eyes seemed to be. Sheryl's eyebrows pinched, confusion in her green eyes. Her mouth opened as if she were about to speak, but was interrupted by some noise down the hallway.

The woman peered down the hallway and stared for a minute before her eyes filled with anger. She snapped her gaze back on Liz and spoke, "Get settled. I'll be back at the ass crack of dawn, so you better be ready. Apprentices have classes."

Before she could reply, the woman left Liz in silence as she blinked at the empty space in her door.

"Oh... okay then..." She mumbled to herself. The Sheryl woman must have been assigned to helping her, or something. Or perhaps she volunteered.

The young mage shut the door, the hinges squealing as it clicked shut. She turned and looked at the barren room, a bed in the far corner. It was more like a closet, really. Her backpack sat at the foot of the bed, waiting for her to sift through it. The window in the middle of the room was barred, but still let the evening sun filter through.

So this was it.

Mages had to be taught how to control their abilities, right? Maybe Circle Towers were like Harry Potter or something? At that thought, her gaze turned to the barred window and emptiness of the room. She remembered how the templars and regular people reacted to them.

Liz frowned. She doubted that. Especially the way Erin's brother Maxwell seemed to speak of them. The way he'd wanted her to run and not get caught by templars. He seemed genuinely afraid. She looked down at the rock that rested against her collarbone, a leather strip delicately tied around it.

It couldn't get any worse, could it?

* * *

 _Oh, how wrong she was._

* * *

 _It was there, she could feel it. She couldn't see it, she could hear it. She_ knew _it was there, lurking in the shadows. It taunted her, coming closer closer cornering her. Crawling inside of her. It wanted her. What was it? Liz panted, running as fast as her little feet could take her. Why couldn't she run? She was running, but it wasn't fast enough! Run run!_

 _This was familiar. A dream of a dream. A recurring dream from her childhood. Why now?_

 _It was as if her feet were stuck in tar, legs moving in haste but the pace didn't match._

 _A deep chuckle boomed from the shadows of the room and just like that, she was on the ground in an empty room. No furniture, no windows, no door. Just dark. Dour, a desolate place. She thought maybe she went blind. Little Liz covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, heart pounding. Blood rushing into her ears._

" _Go away!" She screamed, but no matter how hard she wished it would go away. No matter how hard she pressed on her ears, she still heard it's laughter. It fed off of her fear._

" _Are you afraid?" It asked, smile in it's tone._

 _Afraid?_

" _Afraid."_

 _'Am I afraid?'_

" _You're afraid."_

 _Usually, at this point, the white shadow would appear and save her. Her friend. Her light._ _Warmth flooding the room, driving away the Fear. Push push. Away. But it was not. He wouldn't save her. Not this time. Because he was_ gone _._

" _What are you?" Liz choked, the emptiness in her chest growing. Gone gone._

 _The only answer she got was a deep chuckle._


	3. Life or Death?

" _Life or Death?"_

If Liz could retract her comment about Harry Potter, she would. It had been a stupid thought, anyway.

The next day she'd been rudely awoken by the woman, Sheryl. She was very upset when she realized that she'd slept in. And after some swift shuffling around and tying of her long brown hair into a low ponytail, she was off down the hallway before Sheryl could yell at her any more.

The older mage kind of reminded Liz of her sister, Elise. The name caused her chest to ache. Now every time she saw the fiery look in Sheryl's blue eyes she thought about her sister. They were alike, sure. But Sheryl seemed...angrier. Like she had something against the world.

In any case, the day was spent mostly in a class of some sort for apprentice mages. Most of which consisted of people much younger than she. The room was filled with tables and worn out chairs that scraped against the beautiful hardwood floors. What made her absolutely regret her Harry Potter comment, however, was just how _scared_ everyone seemed to be. The mages, anyway.

Liz felt naïve, perhaps even ignorant for that inner comment the previous night.

The mages were so full of fear that even the way they walked just screamed how timid they were. Especially around the templars. Most of the time the men in ornate armor didn't even move or look at them. The mages would give them a wide berth as they exited rooms and went on with their day. Not that anyone could really tell if said templar was watching, anyway. Their helmets hid their expressions, which kind of added to the intimidation factor. Even Liz felt a little skittish.

They refused to look up at them. This only seemed to make Liz even more curious.

Sure the two she'd met were assholes, but they couldn't all be like that right? Evangeline and Ser Bradford were testament to that.

Her first struggle of the day, however, was using the bathroom. When she'd asked where the bathroom was, she only got an odd stare. To which she had bluntly told them she needed to take a shit. Scrunched noses and hesitant explanations later, she was lead back to her room where said person pointed at a bucket.

She groaned aloud, hearing the door shut from behind her as the person left. She hadn't even gotten his name.

It felt weird, having to crouch over it. Part of her tried to protest and make it weird by telling her that this wasn't even her body she was using. So in all technicality she was likely fondling some underage girl.

' _Gross. Gross, don't even think of it like that. What in God's name is wrong with you, Liz?'_ She scolded herself as she finished her business.

The young woman wiped her hands furiously against her scratchy pants, having not changed out of the ones Maxwell had given her. Even though she'd been granted some robes from Helena. Her face scrunched in disgust as she continued to wipe, wishing she had soap and water to wash her hands after doing such an unsanitary act.

Her thoughts, again, were dashed away as she heard whimpers from the other side of a door as she made her way to the mess hall. (Silently hoping they had wash basins there) Liz's eyebrows furrowed as she pushed on the door without a second thought. The heavy wood creaked to reveal two dark figures as she peeked in. The curtains were drawn and it looked as though they were in a storage room of some sort.

"...how to show me respect!" A man in heavy armor spoke in an aggressive tone as he grabbed a young mage's hair. The mage's face let out a resounding _'crack!'_ as it connected with the armored man's knee. Liz's eyes widened. Especially when the mage made no move to retaliate.

It took her a moment to realize that the man in armor was, in fact, a _templar_. Usually the ones in the tower wore helmets. This one, however, did not.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" She blurted and pushed the door open angrily. She glared at the man as he let the boy go, the sound of the door hitting the wall echoed through the quiet room. The templar turned and looked at Liz, hate so evident in his eyes it would have made her shiver had she not been so livid. "He's not even fighting back."

"Leave." The boy on the ground spoke weakly, blood leaking from his mouth. He didn't even move to look up. Even in the dim room she could see the bruises forming on his face. The kid had to have been in his teens. Younger than the body she resided in, for sure.

"Do you want to take his place?" The larger man asked mockingly.

"I am barely half your size." She shot back, a snarl forming on her face. "Get off your high horse you-"

"Hey hey _hey_ , what do you think you're doing here Erin?" A familiar voice interrupted from the hallway. Sheryl grabbed Liz's arm and pulled her out of the room. Once the door was shut, she snapped her attention on the young mage. "Really. Do you _want_ to get your ass kicked?"

"What? Aren't you going to do something about that? Just let some kid get beat up? He wasn't even defending himself." Liz argued and tried to push passed the older woman. Sheryl simply put herself in the way and shook her head.

"I know. But I'll find a way to deal with it, don't bother." Her expression seemed to darken, the anger roiling in her gaze. "As much as I want to sock him in the face, there is a way to go about it. At least that way we can come out on top."

"And how's that?"

"Senior Enchanter Adrian will take care of it, I'm sure." Sheryl chuckled as they walked down the hallway. Liz felt irritation rise in her gut.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. It's just …. usually after the first beating they get all timid. Not you, though."

"And that's amusing to you?"

"No. It's just, people like us are hard to come by I guess." She shrugged and stopped just outside of the library. "Don't let that fire burn out, just yet. Now shoo." She waved her off and pointed at the library, where she had been instructed to go after lunch.

Liz sighed and realized she'd missed her opportunity to eat. Great.

The library was just as grand as the rest of the White Spire. Liz wondered why anyone would need their bookshelves to be so ornate. Or why there would need to even be a chandelier in the library. The window on the far wall sent beams of tinted sunlight into the room, leaving the apprentices with a soft glow above their heads as they listened to an older man lecture.

The people in this country certainly seemed to like their lavish things. What was the country's name, again? She pondered this as she crept into the room.

It seemed it was another lecture about the practices of magic and something about The Fade. Liz quietly made her way to a seat at the far back, trying not to cause any undue attention. Only a few peered over at her and the instructor didn't halt in his speech.

It was odd, the way things worked in this world. She was from a place where magic was fantasy. Something from a book or a game. Here, it was reality. And it was dangerous. Mages were always in danger of becoming possessed by a demon, because of their connection to this Fade place.

The Fade, as she's learned thus far, is some sort of metaphysical realm connected to their world. Separated by something called the Veil. It was spoken of as some mysterious and awful place. The place of nightmares. Yet, it was also the place where everyone went when they slept. Where people had their dreams. Not to mention the place that magic users drew their magic from. Which lead her to believe was where demons must reside. The Fade.

It was baffling, to Liz.

About an hour in, the door to her far left creaked and opened. This was followed by the hesitant pitter patter of light footsteps. The young boy from earlier walked into the library, his wounds bandaged and covered. Mostly. Blood could still be seen seeping through the gauze and one of his eyes were swollen shut.

Liz clenched her hands on the side of the table. She just needed to breathe. Breathe. Getting worked up over something like that would do her no good. The Senior Enchanter would see that the man get punished for his wrongdoings, right?

But honestly, what kind of place was this? Where the authority figures so obviously abused their power? Where they made the mages so afraid to even look at them?! What kind of world was this?

 _'I need to get out of here.'_ Liz thought to herself, realizing that staying might only lead to her untimely demise. Sure, the Trevelyans promised to transfer her to... Fere...Ferelden? A Ferelden Circle. But she didn't even know what that meant!

For all she knew, the templars in that country were just as bullshit as the ones in this country. It was absolutely ridiculous.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when a heavy thud hit the table. A hand was placed, fingers splayed as a body loomed over her. Some of the apprentices around her seemed to scoot away, but none made a move to speak up. Liz turned her gaze from the hand to the owner of said hand. The templar that had been abusing the boy stared down at her with a sneer.

"What do _you_ want?" She asked, sneering right back. In the back of her head she was reminding herself to keep her mouth shut. Just stay out of it. So the only solution the young woman had was to pretend that she saw nothing.

"I think we need to have a little talk, that's what."

"I'm a little busy." She replied and turned her gaze to the book in front of her. She pretended to scan the words splayed across the paper. None of which, by the way, she even understood. Liz assumed maybe they accidentally gave her a book in a different language. She felt her chest constrict in irritation as the man shoved the book off of the desk. It fell to the ground with a ' _thump!'_

That's when everything got quiet. Almost deathly quiet.

The apprentices, even the teacher was staring now. The class effectively came to a screeching halt. The daggers of sunlight pierced across the templar's face, which was red with anger. Indignation of some sort, as well.

"Rude, don't you think? You interrupted the lecture." Liz spoke in forced neutrality, hoping that maybe he'd back off until later when they were alone. She turned and made eye contact with the elderly man at the front who had been teaching the small class. His eyes behind his glasses widened and Liz felt her face get grabbed roughly. She was forced to look at the man.

The young woman winced and she could have sworn her jaw was already bruising. Before the man could even speak up, she'd already responded in defense. Liz's teeth chomped down on his hand, breaking right through his thin gloves. He cried out and let go, taking a step back. Liz scrambled out of her chair, standing on the opposite side of the table as she eyed the man warily.

"You little-!" He screamed and flicked his wrist.

Perhaps she shouldn't have done that.

"Uhh... sorry?"

"A bit late fer that _."_ He gritted out and took a step forward, his much bigger body a menacing sight. Especially since he was twice her size. Liz forgot just how small she was and she felt her knees go weak. Only for adrenaline to kick in as he came around the table. Gasps could be heard around her as she scooted to the side, keeping him on the opposite end of the table.

"I shouldn't have bit you, I'm sorry!" She blurted, voice cracking as she maneuvered back and forth. Her heart threatening to beat it's way out of her chest as her mind screamed at her to just run. Run! Eventually the man simply growled and tipped the table in his anger, lunging toward her and grabbing the scruff of her borrowed tunic. Liz let out a squeak and began to squirm, her body being lifted off of the ground.

At this point, she could see the occupants of the room standing up and away from the scuffle. Or was it really a scuffle when she wasn't even fighting back?

The templar lifted her so that her face was in his. His breath was hot on her face as he opened his mouth to speak. But he didn't get to. Liz couldn't help the scrunch of her nose at the smell of his rancid breath. Did these people ever brush their teeth?

Yells could be heard from the hallway, as if calling for help. She grabbed the front of his breastplate and yanked herself in his direction, driving the crown of her head into his face. She heard a _'crack!',_ then a grunt.

He let go of her and she dropped onto her butt. Liz scrambled backward, almost crab walking in her vain attempt at getting away. She knew she was fucked when the man pulled his hand away to reveal his crooked and bloody nose.

The blood drained from her face.

 _'Aw, crap.'_ Was her last coherent thought as he dove at her. The woman could feel her head as it bounced off of the unforgiving tile. Stars burst forth into her vision. She flailed and scratched blindly, ears ringing. She felt her nails dig into something soft a few times, but mostly it was her getting yanked around and hit. Liz wasn't even sure if it was just him, at that point. She couldn't even see straight.

Her panic only seemed to intensify when he pinned her to the ground. All of the air was forced out of her mouth, leaving her unable to breathe. The woman could feel the cold tile against her back. She could only see him. The way he sneered down at her through his bloody crooked nose.

Liz tried to push him off, her hands pressed against his cold metal breastplate. But it was in vain. Erin's body was weak. Frail.

What was he going to do? Was he going to hurt her? Attack her? When his hand went toward his belt where his sword was, all she could think—' _He is going to kill me.'_

She could have sworn she heard him say something about taking her to 'The Pit' or something, but her mind felt foggy and staticy. Her vision tunneled and, reflexively, she felt something from within welling up. Like a dam threatening to burst. She clenched his breastplate, knuckles turning white.

The Pit. The Pit? Was that where they disposed of mage bodies? W _as that where—_

Him or her? Her or him? Kill or be killed. The panic and fear of dying seemed to trigger something inside of her. An instinct, of some sort. Liz felt it pooling in her gut. It spread out and made her feel warm warm. Warm. Hot. Hot. Why was it so hot? Liz's eyes dilated into pinpricks. She could have sworn her heart stuttered as a rush of energy jolted through her system. It reminded her of adrenaline, but it pulsed hot through her veins.

The templar above her looked absolutely panicked. Terrified, even. He knew. She didn't. But he did.

The air around them lit up, everything slowing to a crawl. Flames curled up her arms, licking and singing the fine hairs on her arms. Climbing climbing, until they reached her hands. Her fingertips.

Liz screamed.

" _ **Let go of me!"**_

Everything exploded. Blinding. Impossible to see. Red and orange death danced before her eyes, licking at her face. The templar didn't even scream, but she could hear the loud _'thump!'_ that hit the wall across from her. The woman continued to scream, the raging inferno around her only seemed to fuel her fear and panic. Her emotions only fed the fire further.

It was like she was back on Earth again. She was back home. Elise was screaming for help, her bright green eyes watery as the smoke choked her. Elise. Elise. The fire took everything. Her home. Her life. _Her sister._ Then she was back in the Circle Tower, the bookshelves from the library already set aflame as the burning death ate everything in it's path.

She couldn't breathe. Why couldn't she breathe? She couldn't breathe!

"W-W-Why?" The young woman choked out. Liz looked down at her hands, trying to will the fire away. _Go away go away._ "Go away!"

It wanted to take her, again.

She yelled and covered her ears, squeezing her eyes shut.

No. No nonono.

 _'Just...let...'_

A chuckle, far far away, filtered through her ears. It reminded her so much of the thing in her dreams, her stomach dropped. Liz heard her heartbeat, the sound of the roaring flames settling to a faint crackle.

 _'let me...'_ A voice, not her own, pushed against her. She could _feel_ it. _'I … help. Let me in.'_

Liz hissed and shook her head, willing the voice away. She learned from one of the classes about demons. It was a demon, right? A demon. Don't listen to it. Ignore it. She instead focused on what was around her. What was real.

Focus. Focus. This is real. _'I am real.'_

That's when the smoke and burnt flesh wafted through her nostrils, she knew people had died. _They_ _were dead_. Oh God, they were dead. Liz sat up and let out a weak cry. The teacher, too. He was laying face down ten feet away, as if he had been trying to run for the door.

The other apprentices...

Liz felt sick. The roaring inferno had trickled back to a faint crackle. There were still things aflame, sure. But...She could have sworn she was still on fire—no she _was_ on fire. She screamed even louder as she rolled around on the soot covered ground. Her arms got the brunt of it. She felt her skin bubbling, sending her mind reeling back to her experience on Earth. The young woman was about to let out another scream as she writhed, laying in a fetal position.

The young mage felt like she was wrestling with herself. It was all in her head. In her head. She didn't want to go back to Earth. Back to... no. Not now. _That_ wasn't real. This was real. Right?

"What's going on? What's going on?" A voice spoke, different than before, but she knew it had to have been in her head. Again. Was it the demon? No—right— _different_.

The voice seemed to break her panic, if only for a second. But it was enough to get her to breathe. Sweet sweet oxygen. Breathe and concentrate. Or, at least, try to. The only sound was the crackle of fire and death around her and the ragged sound of her labored breathing.

"Fire. Fire." Her voice wobbled, stomach feeling sick at the sight. She couldn't even think straight. The words came out in a chant. A terrified, sobbing, chant.

"Fire?"

"Explosion. _Fire_." She whimpered, "Please no. Fire. B-Burns."

A pause.

"Run. Are they distracted?" She thought she heard, but only continued to repeat herself. The voice got louder, this time. More frantic, "Erin! Get up and _RUN!"_

"R-Run?"

"Run!"

Her body moved, as if on a command not her own. Her mind still felt fuzzy and her limbs made of lead, but she turned toward the broken remains of the window.

The windows were completely missing, now. One step. Two step. Her movements almost felt mechanical. Forced. Glass cut into her palms as she scrambled out through the window and fell into the bushes below. Liz heaved, her body shaking from the shock it was likely about to go into. _'Not here. No. Not here, please.'_

Her body was cold and sweaty. The way the leaves brushed against her burns kept her anchored. Her arms still felt like they were on fire. She could still _feel_ the fire. Her vision swayed and she wanted to just lay down and sleep, but she forced her eyes open.

Then voices. From above. Heavy metal footsteps and gasps of horror. "What in Andraste's name happened here?"

"Maker..."

"Someone call the healer!"

"No use...they're...they-"

Liz froze, her ears tuning in on the frenzied calls from above. It was enough to make her forget about the foul taste of vomit in her mouth. Enough to get her to freeze and stop. Before they could investigate the broken windows, she crawled through the hedges.

"I don't know, ser. I-I heard an explosion...screaming...and..." The voice faded as she turned a corner. Sure enough, any of the guards that had been posted must have rushed in to find out the commotion.

It had, afterall, been a rather large explosion.

What now?

It didn't take long, but much to her luck she'd been able to find a hay cart by the stables. Liz climbed into the thing and hid inside. It was scratchy, but she refused to move. Especially when the cart wobbled as someone got into the driver's seat at the front. The movement broke her out of her dazed state. How long had she been laying there?

"Henry, get yer arse in gear!"

"Aye!" Henry, presumably, yelled in response. Footsteps followed, then something was shoved into the pile of hay. _'THUNK!'_ Liz held in her screech, only to gasp. Her cheek burned, the cool press of metal firm against her cheek. Her eyes were wide in horror as she slowly turned to look at the pitchfork that almost impaled her head.

 _That had been too close._

First she was already suffering from some pretty serious burns. And now she'd almost gotten her face skewered by a pitchfork. Today was a pretty hectic day. Hectic being a _vast_ understatement.

The young woman steadied her breathing as the cart began to shake and rock back and forth. The horse's hooves clopped against the stone path. Soon enough, she heard some gates open and the sounds of a crowd in the distance.

"Erin? Erin, are you still there?" A whispered voice asked. The same one from earlier. It was familiar. Painfully so.

"Yes." She replied quietly, still laying on her back. Her muscles ached and she didn't even want to move, but she knew she had to if she wanted to actually escape and get anywhere.

"Did you get out? Where are you?"

"A cart. We left the Tower."

"They said they took you to Val Royeaux. I have a friend there. Go to her."

"Who?"

"Her name is Auri and she's an apothecary. She lives just off of 5th street in unit 306. Stay out of sight." He spoke in a soft and low tone, as if he were trying to keep quiet too. That's when Liz slowly began to realize the voice had been coming from the rock around her neck. The Sending Crystal, as it had been called.

She had been talking to Maxwell this whole time. Erin's brother, as she'd come to believe. Somehow, some way, she'd evidently activated the thing during her frenzy. The woman blinked back tears as she pushed the incident in the back of her mind. _'Later. Not now. Later.'_

When Liz peeked her head out of the pile of hay, the ground slowly passed by from below. No one seemed to notice the small brown speck that made itself known in the mound of hay. Everyone too busy milling about.

 _'Do I just … jump out?'_ She wondered to herself, gripping the back of the cart anxiously. Her emotions roiled around in her stomach, causing her to feel nauseous. She still didn't feel too great after...after...

She had to get out of the cart if she planned on actually leaving. From what she'd heard, they were simply going to a stable across town to drop some of the excess hay off. She'd be discovered if she didn't jump. Discovered and killed, more like. She was the one that blew up...blew up...

That _killed—_

She shook her head.

After much inner debate, she was able to hop out of the cart with a fluff of hay and straw. The substance stuck out of her hair and was all over in her clothing. Liz stumbled her way into an alleyway and quickly took cover. She huffed and wheezed, trying to push the pain out of her mind.

It didn't seem like it was working. As she focused on the street signs and kept trying to bob in and out of alleyways, she could feel herself getting weaker. Liz's frail body in this world couldn't seem to take it. But, to be fair, she doubted she could take this kind of stress even in her old body.

The young mage stumbled up to a house, trying to remember if it had been 305 or 306 he'd said to go into. That is, until she decided to go with the latter. She stumbled up to the door and tried to knock at the door. The only thing she was able to do was pat at it weakly, before her breaths got shallow and weak. The pain catching up to her body, causing her vision to waver.

She looked down at her arms as her legs gave out. Her hands were bloody from the glass. Gashes openly bled onto the stone below. But it was her forearms that had gotten the worst of it. Burns marred all the way up to the crease in her elbows.

Liz's eyes rolled back and her body fell forward against the door with a loud,

 _'THUMP!'_

All she heard before she lost consciousness was the sound of approaching footsteps behind the door.

* * *

Liz could feel the world coming back to her as she regained consciousness. Her mind felt foggy and the pain in her arms was somehow dulled. She licked her chapped lips and opened her eyes, squinting at the dim light of the candle at her right. She was laying in a soft bed, a blanket draped over her small form.

Voices filtered into the room that she lay in, the door cracked. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but it sounded like a woman and a man. They were worried. That was all she gathered from it.

Her brown eyes slipped from the wood paneled ceiling and toward said door.

"—hasn't even showed signs of waking up!" The woman, presumably Auri, had argued in a swift and stern tone. Or, she hoped it was Auri. For all she knew it was a woman arguing with templars. Her muscles tensed a little, but then she heard a familiar voice.

"She can't stay in Val Royeux long. The templars are probably looking for her right this moment. She needs to leave today." Maxwell's voice answered, footsteps moving closer to the door. She relaxed, if only a little.

"Max-" She tried to argue, her shadow filtering through the crack in the door.

"I am begging you." Maxwell's voice cracked, fear evident in his tone.

The woman outside of the door moved away, sighing. The rest of their conversation became too quiet to hear.

' _So, am I safe?'_ Liz wondered to herself, laying there in that bed. The whole situation set her whole body on edge. She didn't even know any of these people. Part of her felt like perhaps she was taking advantage of their kindness. Of her situation and the fact that they seemed to think she was this … Erin Trevelyan.

And she was, wasn't she?

Or, at least in body. But not mind.

The hairs on her arms rose at the memory of what she looked like in the mirror. Her hands came up, the action causing pain, and she stared at the small bandaged hands of the girl she currently resided in.

' _Erin…'_ Liz clenched Erin's hands, the feeling … not right. Hands, much too small. Skin, much too tan. Too freckled. Well, it had once been unblemished. No scars. But she doubted after her wounds healed that would be the case any longer. _'I'm sorry, Erin.'_

The overwhelming guilt. Tears filled the young woman's eyes. _'I'm sorry.'_

Minutes later, she returned. The door shut lightly behind her as she entered the bedroom. Liz looked over at the young woman next to the door, her hands falling at her sides.

"You are conscious." Auri's lilting tone filtered into the room as she walked toward the woman. She had a stone in her hand. The same thing Liz had been wearing and using to contact Maxwell. The woman stopped at the side of the bed and set the Sending Crystal next to her, "You are fortunate to have come here when you did. Burns like those are quite easy to get infected."

And infection in this world likely meant death. Or amputation. Then death. Usually death.

"I see.." She wriggled her fingers and the burns on her arms seemed soothed, somehow. Probably some sort of ointment underneath the bandages on her arms.

The woman blinked and observed Liz, who still lay in bed on her back. They both seemed to take one another in. Though for obviously different reasons. Auri appeared as though she were reliving memories, a faint smile forming on her delicate features. Her black hair was tied into a loose bun as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I remember when you were just a little girl. Now you're all grown up." She sighed and looked toward the window, which was dark. The only illumination being from the moon and the candles lit in the room. "Get some rest."

With that, she left the room. The door shut with a soft _'click'._

This Auri girl was a family friend, it seemed. Maxwell knew her. Erin should know her, right? It would seem odd to act as if she didn't know this woman when she was supposed to know her. Liz couldn't bring herself to let her guard down, however.

For the first time in Liz's life, she wondered if she would die tomorrow.

* * *

 _Liz sat at the dining table with her sister and her cousin, all catching up and sharing stories. A memory of a time. The smell of her aunt's cookies filled the air, her fingers curling around the hot mug of coffee._

 _Her cousin Brad had gotten a girlfriend and was nervous about getting her something for Valentine's Day. Unfortunately, he'd slipped on the ice and sent the flowers and chocolates scattering across the front lawn._

 _It was quite the story to hear._

" _Well that's one way to … break the ice." Elise giggled and poked fun at him, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Liz let out a bark of laughter at Brad's embarrassed face as they sat around the table with hot chocolate._

" _Elise..."_

" _You fell pretty hard for her, didn't you?" She continued and Liz lost it, her facial muscles hurting from the stupid puns. Her darn puns._

 _Then it was like everything paused, stuttered – stopped. Shrouded in silence, it was almost deafening. Elise's features slowly began to melt off, falling onto the table in front of her steaming cup of hot cocoa. Her eyes darkened and before Liz knew it, their bodies were blackened and falling away like dust in the wind. Floating and flittering, never to be seen again._

 _That's right. She can't see them ever again, can she? The smile on Liz's face died, her eyes losing it's luster._

" _You couldn't save her. Poor poor thing." A raspy voice cooed in her ear, causing the hairs on her neck to rise. Liz whipped around, but there was nothing. Just nothing. Rocks floated in the distance and the air smelled of sulfur. She waved the thick fog away from her face._

 _She was no longer sitting in her aunt's house, but standing in the middle of a barren wasteland._

" _Who are you?" She meant for it to come out as a demand, but it sounded more like a plea. The ringing in her ears intensified, causing her vision to blur._

" _Come here,_ **** _. Soon ... will be-" The scratchy voice faded into the background as she clutched her head painfully, willing it away. Go away, go away!_

 _Liz sat up—_ eyes wide, and she was greeted with the sound of labored breathing. Ragged, roiling in her stomach.

Dying wasn't the most pleasant feeling in the world, she thought as she tried to quell her hammering heart. It slammed against her ribcage relentlessly. The darkened ceiling the only thing greeting her so late at night. The candles snuffed out. Clean bandages. House? Auri. Right. She remembered where she was.

Adrenaline in her veins, tingling in her fingers and toes. It was all a reminder that she was still alive. Alive and well. Albeit not in her own body.

Dying hurt. Dying was traumatizing. The only thing she did know for certain, was that she didn't want it to ever happen again.

Note to self: don't die. Again.

* * *

 _As a mage in this world, I must be ever vigilant. For I risk the possibility of possession. I am a risk to others. I am a risk to myself. I am not to be trusted. I am dangerous._

* * *

Reviews

* * *

 **HairyCouchPizza** -Thank you! I'd like to think I've gotten better since my last story. Seeing as how that one was mainly for learning characterization and ... well, to be honest it was just made up on the fly. Hopefully this one turns out much better than the last. But that has yet to be seen. And I don't think anyone would truly be happy being in her position. For being 'reincarnated' she kind of got the crap end the of stick, yeah?


	4. The Ghost of the Spire

Before Chapter note: For those of you that haven't read _Dragon Age: Asunder_ , I have included some insight into what Cole was like before Inquisition! (YES, he makes an appearance. Finally.) For those of you that have read it? I hope I have done him justice.

* * *

" _The Ghost of the Spire"_

Cole couldn't remember the last time he was able to sit down and talk to anyone. Or if he even could. The only memories he had of was of this place. His first memories were of here. Getting dragged down into the darkness of the Pit. He even remembered the rough hands of the templars that took him down there, their grips bruising on his shoulder. Then he was thrown into a cell. No beatings came. Nothing. They just left him there.

He was left alone with only the empty sound of the deep hallways and the squeaking of rats. Not even the torchlight reached the cell that far back. So he had remained quiet. Still. Nothing but the occasional whimper escaping his chapped lips.

Was this the Maker's way of punishing him? He was being punished for being born. Being alive. Being a mage was a curse, at best. He didn't _want_ to be a mage. But the days seemed to stretch on, during his time down there in that cell. It was so cold and dark. Sometimes rats would try to tear into his soft flesh, but he'd bat them away and cower in the corner. He prayed and prayed, hoping that they'd just forget he even existed.

Then one day, it happened. Perhaps he'd simply died that day, who knows? Did ghosts even remember their deaths?

 _Was_ he a ghost? Was this what happened after people died? But then again, did ghosts sleep? Did they get hungry?

He didn't know what he was.

Whatever he may be, he was to forever walk the halls of the White Spire unseen. It's all he's known. All he was. Cole didn't know it, but he craved it. For someone to be able to look at him. To see him.

Then, there were other times he was afraid. Much too afraid to even want to be seen. The emotion bubbling in his stomach like some sort of sickness. Usually this happened around the templars. Their imposing forms standing at the doorways, in the halls, patrolling. Always watching.

Presently, Cole stood in the hallway. The young man was watching two humans giggle and whisper to one another. Two young women pressed against one another, hands grabbing at their shirts.

There were many hidden corners in the great tower, where they would often go to hide from the templar's prying eyes. Cole was privy to such hiding places and knew all of them. Though he did not come into the upper halls that often. Usually the mages would lean in and whisper things to one another. Gossip and spread information. Other times they'd do... this.

He felt his blonde hair shift against his face as he tilted his head, watching them try to eat one another. Or... kiss. Kissing. It was rather interesting, what the mages did on their freetime. Most of the time they simply read books or sat with their friends. Other times, like now, they'd go off into a private corridor and kiss. _Among other things._

The young man tensed as he heard heavy footsteps approaching. Cole slowly turned his head, freezing up as a tall man shouted. "Oi oi, break it up will ya?! Get back to the common area!"

The mage couple separated as if burned, fear winning out as they sputtered excuses and apologies. The templar simply waved his hands in a shooing motion. They scuttled off, scared. The armored man remained, standing in front of Cole. He could have sworn he would turn around and ask him why he was there. Maybe get angry. But instead he put his hands on his hips and sighed, shaking his head at the retreating forms.

The man was frowning, his facial hair hiding much of his expression. Most of the time the templars were suspicious of the mages and thought them to be conspiring against them. Then there were others, much like the man there, that knew otherwise. Bradford, he thinks his name was.

More often than not, however, the templars held the mages in contempt. Hated them, even. The tall man turned and scanned the empty white hallway. His eyes passed over Cole, completely ignoring him. The sun from the stained window cast light across the man's aged features as he turned back around and began to walk away.

They never did see him, did they? He should be grateful that the templars couldn't. There was only one person he knew that could see and remember him everytime they met. A friend.

Before, it had been no one. Absolutely no one. The loneliness that he felt, even now, made him feel hollow. Not whole. Even though this meager existence was all he knew, it somehow felt … wrong. Something was off. He couldn't put his finger on it.

 _He_ was wrong.

But—Cole felt his eyes dilate into pinpricks, his heart beating irregularly. The templar's departing footsteps a slow echo as time seemed to slow. The darkness, _it was there._ Gripping and clawing at his insides. He shifted on his feet and he could have sworn the floor felt softer. Like he was sinking in.

 _Not again._

Cole swallowed thickly as he turned and scampered off down the white hallways, panicked. He tried to ignore the way the ground felt. The way he felt on the inside, the way it seemed to get colder.

He tried to ignore the thoughts that maybe he would fall through the ground. Down do _wn down._ Like it wanted to swallow him whole. The air felt thicker. He needed—he had to-

He hardly ever came up to the upper part of the tower, to be honest. Oh, why did he have to come up here? Cole didn't feel comfortable being up in the wide bright spaces of the upper floors. Where the sunlight was almost blinding.. He much preferred the darkness, in the bowels of the tower. The stairs ascended into the earth, his feet tapping against the stone as he stumbled his way down.

He passed the first few floors of the lower chambers, which contained the kitchens and armories. Then came the archives, where the stored the books not kept in the upper libraries. Then came the last floor, deep deep beneath the tower itself. This was the oldest part of the tower called 'The Pit'.

The place where he spent most of his time, filled with crumbling walls deteriorating with age. Rickety stairwells that led to storerooms even deeper and untouched in what seemed to be decades. Some of the passages were even flooded, barring any type of travel.

Cole was very familiar with every nook and cranny, having explored it at length. All but what lay at it's heart. The dungeons in the Pit. He only went there unless he absolutely needed to.

Take this instance, for example.

He stumbled through the door, his gaze slipping over toward the candlelit table that was around the corner. The guard sat there, keeping watch. Or, he should be. He was asleep. His fingers twitched, his eyes never leaving the ring of keys that dangled on the far wall.

The man didn't even stir as Cole grabbed them when he walked by. The only indication he was even there being a soft snort as he rubbed his face. The guard remained still, eyes shut and mind far far away within the realm of sleep.

Cole could swear he could feel himself slowly fading. Becoming one with the shadows. They tried to consume him. Panicked, he scurried down the hall filled with many cells. It only seemed to get darker as he continued on.

The young man wasn't sure how to explain the feeling he had. As he got closer to the cell. His feet tapped against the aged stone, the feeling somehow … calling out to him.

 _'No no, not now. Not yet. Can't-'_ He fumbled with the cloth in his pocket, pulling it out and revealing a glowstone. The dim blue light illuminated the chambers, allowing him to see a darkened and slumped form in the corner of the cell.

 _ **'Click'**_

The cell door unlocked and screeched on it's hinges, echoing down the hall ominously. His eyes trailed up from the floor and onto the slumped form. The form twitched and turned over weakly. The young boy's pointed ears showed through his matted hair, brown eyes staring up at him in fear.

"A-Are you..." He spoke weakly through chapped lips. "W-who are you?"

 _He could see him._

"My name...is Cole." He answered as he set the glowstone down in the middle of the cell. He stared at him unblinkingly, observing him as she sat up and stared at him. The look in his eyes not unlike what he's seen before. When a person has given up. The elven boy's blank stare met his own, a frown etched onto his features.

"You are no templar." He spoke plainly, "Are you here to kill me?"

His brown eyes were locked onto the ornate dagger in Cole's hand. The brass hilt carved into the head of a dragon. The elven boy seemed calm. Almost eerily calm in the face of what was about to happen. Cole slowly made his way closer to him. So close that he could feel his ragged breaths on his face. He made no move to run.

"I can make it all go away." He informed, holding the dagger up as he stared into his eyes. "Just look at me."

And just like the many other times, without any hesitation, the boy looked at him. Brown on blue. Looked _into_ him. He was, at that moment, the most important thing in the world to him. He was the one giving him a way out of this world. This world so full of terror and pain. Tears pooled at the edges of the elven boy's eyes as he lifted the dagger and pointed it at him.

The boy took a deep breath. With that, soft flesh gave way as he plunged it into his chest. The boy's eyes widened, a squelching sound echoing through the chamber.

With one sharp twist, the boy's mouth erupted with blood. It soaked the front of Cole's leather tunic and trickled in thick rivulets underneath his neckline. The mage's body fell limp and he slowly guided it onto the damp stone. Even in death, his eyes were wide open. He saw him. Looked at him. Right through him. Cole watched the light slowly die in his eyes.

In that moment, he felt like he was beginning to remember something as he stared down at the dead body of the elven boy. The dark substance coated the front of his chest, blooming like a deadly flower. His eyes stared up at him accusingly. Something in his chest gave a twist and he placed his head between his knees, trying to rid the feeling.

 _Go away go away._

Cole let out a shuddering breath, bloody fingers pulling at the ends of his hair. The darkness receded, seeping back into the cracks. The stone no longer felt soft. No fear of falling. Not yet. Not now. Not again. In that moment, Cole was safe.

"I heard it over here!"

Heavy armored footfalls came down the hallway and toward the open cell door. Cole took a step back and stood still, eyes wide. Even though he knew that they wouldn't see him, the fear was still there. The young man didn't move as they entered the cell, swords drawn.

A gasp, as one of the men walked up to the elven boy in the middle of the cell. His fingertips dragged along the blood, still hot and seeping out of his body.

"Another one, ya see this?" He whispered, fear coloring his tone.

"N-No. H-How? How?" The younger one by the cell door asked, eyes darting around looking for an enemy. Anything. Anyone.

Cole was too afraid to move. He wanted nothing more than to dart out into the hallway and run away. But his body wouldn't obey.

 _Don't see me. Please don't see me._

One began to speak frantically to the larger one. He frowned at the smaller templar and grumbled about paperwork before stomping out of the cell. Cole was shaking as he grabbed the keys and slowly followed behind them, ignoring the sound of the gate closing with a resounding _'click!'_

He placed the ring of keys back on the wall where they were supposed to be, his ears immediately twitching at the new sound of the door above slamming shut. The sound echoed down the barren hallway, causing the two templars beside him to look up.

There was a lot of activity. More so than usual, he noticed. Once again he froze in place, standing against the wall and hoping that they didn't look his way.

"Looks like 'e bagged another one." Bradford, he recognized, grunted as a few more came down the narrow staircase with a small form positioned between them. A boy dangled lifelessly, brown matted hair fell in front of his face. Or, what was left of it. Most of his hair seemed to be almost chopped off in the back. Longer pieces dangled lifelessly, framing freckled features.

The young human's arms were bandaged heavily, obviously from some wound of sorts.

"Shouldn't the kid have cuffs? Standard protocol states-" The youngest and smallest of the group was promptly cut off.

"Yeah yeah. He didn't put up much of a fight. Little one, he is. Give me yours." A scraggly man held out his hand, asking for a pair from Bradford. The cuffs, Cole knew, prevented the mage from channeling mana. He stood absolutely still as the four templars froze and looked at the small mage, as if startled.

The air around them suddenly sparked to life and Cole could feel the hairs on his arms stand on end. _What was this?_

Then everything was awash in blue, bright light wrapping up his bandaged arms as he focused—lightning? The two holding the young mage were knocked back onto the ground, convulsing. The light crackled and discharged in the air, shifting around him. Cole shivered, but remained still. The boy's head snapped up, fierce brown eyes flicking back and forth. He could have sworn he stared at Cole for a moment before deeming him not a threat and instead focusing on the templars.

This only seemed to startle Cole even more. Could he-?

"Ah!" The youngest one unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the boy, only to be interrupted by his superior. Bradford held out his arm to stop the young initiate. The young mage snarled, blue light flickering across his freckled face. The electricity was like a cloak, a defense mechanism of some sort.

"Hold!" Bradford yelled and pointed at the mage, causing him to stop casting altogether. That's when the young mage fell to the ground and began to convulse beside his escorts. Cole didn't know why, but the air felt different now. Almost empty. Barren. The mage certainly didn't seem to like it at all. He simply lay there, groaning in pain. " _I should kill you,_ but you're not worth the paperwork. The higher ups get to decide your fate, little one."

Cole heard him mutter something about being _'to young to die, anyway'._

Bradford grabbed him by the hair after he'd fastened the cuffs on him, then began to drag him to a cell.

"Ser Bradford? But what about Edward and Paul?" The initiate was clearly shaken, sword still drawn. Bradford let out an irritated grunt as he took slow calculated steps down the hallway, moving around Cole subconsciously.

" _Fuck_ Edward and Paul. The kid didn't put enough bite into the spell, anyway. They're fine." Bradford shouted and tossed the boy in with one heave. His body rolled a few times before coming to a stop in the middle of the small space. Cole blinked, but remained still. The door shut with a loud _'clink!'_ "First a young elven boy gets murdered under my watch, now this little— _shit_. Edward probably got too cocky while out on a job, that git!"

"But-"

"Did I ask for your opinion? I've gotta go write a damn report." He stomped by, "Register the kid, I'll be back."

"S-Ser!" He saluted sloppily and walked into a nearby room. By then, Edward and Paul had reluctantly gotten up. Much to the dismay of the eldest templar, who dragged them off up the staircase. All the while, lecturing them and calling them idiots.

With that, Cole was left alone in silence. Again.

But wasn't he always? No one ever truly saw him. Not for long, anyway. Then it was like he never existed.

But it got him thinking. Didn't that boy see him, in his panic to fight back? His eyes didn't simply pass over him like the others did. He'd...he'd made eye contact.

* * *

 _A dream of a dream. Recurring, repeating. The girl was running and running, but couldn't seem to get away from the booming voice above. The cackling. It wanted her, constantly haunting her. The little girl's black hair was messy as she stumbled and fell, the sludge on the ground keeping her in place._

" _Leave me alone!" She cried, brown eyes welling up with tears. No no, she couldn't get hurt._

 _Then light. The light flashed, burning away the darkness and sludge on the ground. Leaving only the pristine whiteness of the room. Even the cackling monster was gone. Just gone. Like that._

" _He can't hurt you. He won't." The white shadow informed, kneeling next to the girl. She shivered and looked up at him, familiarity ringing true on her features._

" _How do you know?" She asked, as the figure leaned even further in—seeing into her. Their noses almost touched._

" _ **I won't let him."**_


	5. Run and Hide, Little Mage

" _Run and Hide, Little Mage"_

" _He can't hurt you. He won't."_

" _How do you know?" She had asked, not understanding how he could scare away the monster. The figure simply tilted it's head and Liz could feel something itching in the back of her head. It was familiar. So familiar. Why?_

" _I won't let him."_

 _It paused, then rewound. Almost like the dream itself started to unravel. The white walls and the light slowly fizzled and melted away._

 _'I won't let – won't le-et him.'_ The voice distorted and a deep chuckle could be heard, her eyes flew open and her heart was threatening to pump it's way out of her chest. Liz could have sworn she could still hear the chuckling ringing in her ears, but when consciousness fully gripped her – her friend was gone.

That's right. He was gone. He left. Just like everyone else.

Hopelessness gripped her chest as she stared at the dank walls of her cell. She was going to die in here, wasn't she? Liz was going to die all alone in a world not her own. What a wonderful thought. If she was reborn again somehow, hopefully she could at least start over with a blank slate.

 _'But if I'm going to die, I don't want to die alone. Please. Just...'_

 _You can run, but you can never hide for long._

* * *

Well, at least now Liz knew what 'The Pit' was. She hadn't been far off in her assumption, anyway. Dungeons in this day and age never turned out good on the detainee's part. And from the sounds of it, she would be incredibly lucky if she were to even come out of the situation alive.

After some debate, they'd figured out that she was not, in fact, some random mage that Auri had been harboring. But an escaped mage. Didn't look too good on her part.

And it shouldn't. She'd been the one to kill all of those people, afterall. The thought caused her stomach to roil. She was disgusted with herself. The young woman rubbed at her eyes, feeling them bruise from the constant motion. She was tired, but couldn't sleep. Everytime she slept all she could see was their faces. Agape, angry, air filled with the smell of cooked flesh. Her dreams here felt so… real.

"It's the Trevelyan kid. Do you think he's a Vint?" Liz heard one of the men say at the end of the hall when she focused in on their conversation again. They'd been gossiping like little schoolgirls for the passed two hours, now. She, of course, used it as an opportunity to learn about the place she was stuck in. Thus far, she learned they were Orlesian (From the country she was in currently). They sounded French. They thought Liz was a young boy. And something about the cute chef and her bosoms.

Ah, and not to forget that Edward owes Paul four Royals and three Crowns. She assumed that was the currency in this world.

The candlelight flickered across the battered stone hallway. It barely allowed her to see the cell across from her. She could have sworn she saw another figure slumped in the corner. Or maybe it was staring back at—the eyes shone, green orbs glinting as it turned it's head. Okay, yes. It was looking at her. Must be a race with low-light or darkvision. A dwarf or elf? Since her arrival to the tower, she hadn't ever seen a dwarf within the confines of the building. She'd seen them milling about in the town near shipments. But never in the tower. She wasn't sure why.

Neither of the prisoners made a sound.

"What? Why do you say that?" Edward asked and she could hear him slap something onto the table that sounded oddly like change. "I raise."

"Bugger."

It's been two days now? Two, since her capture. She'd tried to leave Auri's house after laying low for two days. Unfortunately templars came pounding at the woman's door. Maxwell had been right. They found her. What she wanted to know was, how? They didn't have cameras in this world, that she knew of, so how had they pinpointed her so quickly? Perhaps rumors had spread. Gossip, as it seemed, appeared to travel like wildfire.

"I hear they have relatives in Tevinter. I bet he was sent in to spy on Orlais!" Paul's more accented voice spouted. Liz's lips thinned as she focused in on the bars, her fingers feeling for any weak spots. For the first time since she'd arrived, she wished she knew more about the world.

Okay. Orlais was the country she was in. But what's Tevinter? They spoke of it like it was a disease of some sort. Were they at war? Did Tevinter try to invade?

"Could it be? Is that why he's alive?" A gasp, "Yes! That's the only reason they didn't kill him outright. I'll bet you they need information."

"Oh hohoho, boy. He's got it in for 'im."

Evidently nothing good, in her case. Nothing was ever easy.

The young woman sighed quietly and stopped her scratching at the bars, fingers getting just as sore as the rest of her battered body. She scooted back and leaned against the wall at the far back, facing the dark hallway.

Liz wondered if she'd ever really see the outside of this dungeon at all. Though she didn't really begrudge those templars for how they were treating her. She was, afterall, a monster. All mages were.

If what she'd done to those people in the library had been proof enough.

Two days in that blasted cell. Two. She'd been living off of bread and dirty water that they occasionally delivered through the bars of her cell. The cuffs around her wrists prevented her from casting spells completely. She could still get a spark to dance at the tip of her finger. But that was it.

The young woman frowned, pushing the bangs away from her dirt smudged face. She'd been caught on her way out of the city. Of course, she'd been fleeing templars at the time. She had gotten through the woods. But ah, Erin's weak body failed her yet again. She'd tripped over her own feet.

 _'At least this way I won't end up getting possessed and killing someone.'_ She admitted to herself, curling into a ball. Especially since she could swear she heard whispers out in the hallway. The whispers here seemed louder, more prominent. Frantic, even. At times they wouldn't stop. There was no sleep for Liz. Especially not here.

Deep into her musing, she was interrupted by a 'click!', then her cell door opening slowly. It's hinges squeaked and squealed ominously, but quiet enough to not attract attention. Edward and Paul cackled in the background, obviously having fun playing their game. Liz's eyes snapped open and she looked up at the door fearfully.

 _Another templar?_

No. He had no armor. A shadow—a lanky young man in leathers stood above her at the entrance of her cell. She couldn't see his face or features, only that he was a dark shadow standing there observing her. The way he moved stiffly caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. He? It? What-

It was silent. Standing there for maybe a minute as the noise down the hallway died down, cloaking them in the ominous hum of the dungeon.

The meager amount of light that even shifted into the cell from the torches far down the hall wasn't enough to make out much of this thing's features. The only thing she could see was a shadow of what it was. The silence seemed to echo. The halls, harrowing, hollow—her heartbeat galloped.

It's face turned and the warm hues of the torchlight felt almost foreboding as the thing before her stared down at her. The little amount of illumination highlighting pale features and sunken in eyes. The accented angles of it's face and how it's eyes seemed to glow under the dim light caused her breathing to hitch. Her brown eyes widened as she scuttled backward.

"W-W-What _are_ you?" It didn't feel human. Liz didn't know why, but the way it moved and the way it seemed to observe her didn't seem right. Keys jingled in it's hands as it moved closer and pocketed them.

That's when her fight or flight instinct kicked in. Normally the young woman would flee, but _she needed those keys._

It knelt down in front of her, so close she could feel it's breath. Then, a male voice spoke. "I can take it all away."

Liz's breath shuddered, the memory of the _thing_ in her dreams spurring the fear in her gut and causing her to panic. With one swift motion, she jutted her hands into it's face. The thing let out a grunt and fell backward, something falling out of it's pocket with a clink and clatter. Multiple somethings.

She took advantage of it's stunned state and pounced atop it. She grabbed it's hair and slammed it's head against the floor. Again. Again. Limp. Unmoving. She didn't know if she killed it, but she scanned the floor for the keys. Surprised that she could see. A glowing blue rock lit up a portion of the cell, almost shining like a beacon next to the keys that were once in the thing's pocket.

Her fingers worked through the ring of keys, oblivious to the watching eyes in the cell across from her. She checked every single one, it seemed, trying to unlock her cuffs.

 _'That's it!'_

With renewed hope, she stood up and began to creep toward the unlocked cell. Liz, of course, didn't forget the glowing rock. The blue glow was muffled as she pocketed it. As she was shuffling around, her foot bumped into something, causing her to pause at it's loud _ **'clank!'.**_

Liz could feel her stomach drop to her feet.

"What was that?" Someone asked from down the hallway. Liz felt frozen, the blood in her veins turning to ice. No. Nono. This was bad. She forced herself to bend down and grab the object she'd bumped into. A dagger.

"Should we go check it out?"

"Better safe than sorry, I suppose." Heavy footfalls made their way toward her cell, her heart beating wildly. The object she'd picked up had been the thing's dagger. Had it been trying to kill her? "I'll stay here."

"Yeah yeah, lazy ass." One of them grumbled as he walked down the corridor with a lantern. His voice more aged and wizened.

"Shut up, Paul!" The other one snapped just as Paul's lantern lit her up. She had no doubt in her mind that she looked like a haggard mess. A monstrosity. Especially with how most of her hair had been chopped off above her shoulders from earlier.

An unfortunate result of her attempted escape in the woods.

"That's—whoa!" The templar's eyes widened in fear as Liz lunged in his direction, dagger poised. She needed to act fast. In his surprised state, he had no time to react to it as it was plunged up into the bottom of his jaw. He gurgled on his own blood as she tried to rip it back out.

It was harder than she thought. Liz could feel the flesh tearing and pulling, hot blood gushing down her hands and arms—making the grip on the dagger slippery. The young woman had to hold back the urge to gag as she finally yanked it free.

The fear in her gut seemed to spur the base human instinct into overdrive. Survive. Live. It drove her forth as she thrust it in again, for good measure. The ex-EMT was no rookie when it came to death and blood. However, she'd never been the one to do it. She'd watched her fair share of lives die out. Sometimes even held their hand as the light slowly extinguished in their eyes. Scared. Unmoving.

But this was nothing like that. She was the direct cause of this man's death. The reason his fear-filled features stared down at her. She was the reason the luster in his gaze dulled as they rolled back. The reason the blood— _oh the blood._ It coated her arms like warm, slick paint.

"Paul!" She heard a shriek of fury from behind the templar as he slowly fell backward, lantern clattering to the floor. Then came his body with a heavy, _**'Thud!'**_

Liz didn't hesitate, even though she felt she should have. She didn't. She pulled at the power inside of her, letting the electricity guide itself. Even her own hair was standing on end as it traveled down her arms and erupted from the tips of her fingers. Everything exploded into a mess of blues and purples. The light ricocheted down the hallway and connected to the other man.

His body spasmed and flailed about, but she refused to let it up. This time she would not let him live. Liz, in the back of her mind, felt something pulling at her. Promising her more power. More more. ' _More?'_

' _ **More.'**_

' _No. Nono.'_

Once she was satisfied and the smell of cooked flesh filled the corridors, she took a hesitant step out and paused. The cell across from her barely lit up, thanks to the lantern at her feet. A young man was crouched in the middle of the cell, watching her from underneath a curtain of mussed hair. She nodded and tossed him the bloody ring of keys, then turned and ran off without a second thought. Liz took the turn she _thought_ was toward the exit.

Unfortunately for her, it lead deeper into the Pit.

* * *

 _'Whatever this place is, it's a damn maze.'_ Liz thought to herself as she passed the same door she did the last couple of times. It felt like she was being lead in circles. Her bare feet clapped against the moist stone surface. She'd even run into a flooded portion, much to her luck. She washed off the filth, trying to convince herself that she was coated in mud. Oil. Something other than—

The young mage tried to retrace her steps, again and again. Using only the light from the glowing stone as illumination. It wasn't much. There were twists and turns. She even had to climb through a few collapsed hallways at some point. But eventually she made her way back from where she'd come from. Or, at least she thought that was it.

Liz was beginning to regret running off so quickly. Now she was stuck in the pitch blackness of the underground maze with only the sounds of rats scurrying across her feet for company. Liz's stomach growled and she suddenly wished she could have a cheeseburger or something from Burger King. The thought only seemed to make her even hungrier.

Would she have to resort to eating the rats?

 _Oh Gods._

She was distracted when she turned the corner and bumped into someone. It took everything in her not to scream or toast them with her magic. Which would have been entirely accidental, of course. The poor girl didn't even have full control over her abilities. She knew that, for sure. Especially since the nervousness that buzzed underneath her skin almost manifested like that time in the library. Liz had to breathe and focus on the figure instead of her own fear.

The tall figure stumbled back and stared down at her, eyes wide. He almost looked frightened at the sight of Liz.

Her nerves calmed, if only slightly, when she realized that the young man was not one of those templars. She whispered, "Oh, it's just you."

His eyes seemed to widen even further, at that. Almost like the fact that she was even talking to him absolutely horrified him.

She remembered seeing him in the Tower at some point. He was completely covered in old dried blood, the coppery scent permeated the air and almost made the young woman gag. It's not like she smelled like daisies either, so she felt she had no room to judge.

He must have gotten into the same position as her and escaped. Did the man in the cell across from her let some of the others out? Did he get out, too? Liz kept her guard up, ever cautious of this new person in front of her. She took in his appearance as he stood there, frozen.

Liz noticed a bruise forming on the side of his face, the blue light only dimly revealing his gaunt face. Had they even fed the poor guy? Irritation reared it's ugly head and waged war against the uneasiness that seemed only to grow as the young man stared down at her with those sad eyes of his.

The most striking blue eyes she'd ever seen, in fact.

Hidden beneath a mass of stringy blonde hair. Eyes that held an insurmountable amount of pain and loneliness. Eyes that told her that he's seen and experienced much _much_ more than she ever could. Even so, the young woman saw a little of herself in that man. It reflected back at her, the ache in her chest growing.

He was lost. So _so_ lost.

"What are you doing down here?" Liz muttered, trying to keep her voice quiet as she lowered her hand from it's defensive stance. The young man seemed to relax, if only a little. Though his shaking had not ceased and she could tell from his body language that he was nervous and scared.

When it seemed he was about to answer, his mouth opening slightly, voices echoed quietly from down the tunnel and Liz tensed. Without even a second thought, she snatched his hand and dragged him in the opposite direction. He struggled for a moment, confusion flickering across his face and the woman tapped down the urge to growl impatiently.

"Do you _want_ to get caught?" She spoke quietly, allowing the irritation to enter her tone as she continued around the corner. He tugged on her hand-

"But they can't-" His voice was too loud! Liz whirled around and let out a 'shush!' sound, her other hand merely inches from his mouth. What was he thinking?! They would hear him if he was too loud, did he not know that? He'd go back to that cell and- and- "See me."

The young mage's hand pushed against him and she shoved him against the wall. Their sheer size difference was almost comical and he could have easily pushed her off and overpowered her for all she knew, but he simply froze up and stared down at her with that terrified expression of his.

"I don't care if you want to get thrown back in that cell, but I'll be damned if you get me caught in the process." Liz spoke dangerously, the light extinguishing as she pocketed the stone again. The voices seemed only to grow in the distance. They were both shrouded in the darkness as she tuned her hearing in and tried to listen. The woman could hear their heavily clad footsteps, even make out some of the words as they spoke amongst one another.

They were talking about some deaths that had happened, which made her stomach drop. ' _They are looking for me.'_

Then she realized, why did she care what happened to this young man anyway? Dragging him along would only serve to get her captured, possibly killed, in the process. Something that she should be avoiding. Caring about the wellbeing of people tended to do that to a person. Liz released him and stepped back. Caring for that boy that was getting beaten got the people in the library killed. Caring was not a luxury she could have. Not if she wanted to survive.

A stark contrast to what she was used to back on Earth. But it was either adapt or survive. She'd rather live.

That's right. Staying there would get her caught and killed. _He would only drag her down._

It was then something changed inside of her.

Without even a second thought, or even a word of warning, she turned and darted off. The young mage left him leaning against that wall, shaking and confused. Something clenched in her stomach but she shook her head and continued on, around the corner. Left, right, right, left. It was an endless maze and she ran onto places that were completely submerged in water more times than she could count.

But she continued to run. Run away from the pit forming in her stomach. The void. The ever dwindling fleck of humanity that had remained from Earth. Gone. Abandoned. This world was different and she had to adopt new morals. It was either her, or them.

 _And she chose herself._

So she refused to think about what had probably happened to that young man once the templars found him. She tried so _so_ hard not to think about it.

* * *

Two days, now. Three days, no food. She knew, because she had to sleep in a dusty room full of cobwebs on more than one occasion. Though, it was definitely better than the cell she'd been sleeping in. On account of the fact that there was still a mattress on the broken bed. It was a soft surface, nonetheless. Better than nothing.

The young mage had also scrounged up an old pot from one of said rooms. She used it to collect water. Which she knew from back in her world likely contained harmful bacteria. Liz's stomach clenched and growled as she held the cup.

Easily rectified with a little trick she'd taught herself. She heated up the cup to kill said bacteria, using dancing sparks on her hands. Sparks, that seemed to come a lot easier to her than anything else. She was too afraid of fire. Lightning, electricity... it was beautiful. She believed so, anyway.

So with enough concentration, she had been able to boil the water. Liz, afterall, did not want to get diarrhea and get sick. She'd just end up dead quicker. Unfortunately, it was time consuming. And she'd almost burned the palms of her hands more often than she'd like to admit.

Sleep, sleep was harder. She still couldn't find it in her to fall asleep completely, constantly plagued with their faces. Voices. Was it their voices or demons? Were the demons preying on her guilt? Her pain? Her sins?

* * *

She finally slept that night. Although not intentionally. The woman practically passed out from exhaustion. The reason she knew she fell asleep was because of the way she heard her name, whispered from an unknown entity that refused to show it's face. Something was there. Watching. Waiting. It—it.

Something shifted, causing her eyes to snap open from the dream she'd been having. She had been wandering the halls of the Pit, glowstone gone. Unseen. Dark. Liz breathed heavily, feeling her heart hammering against her small chest.

 _'Won't...die'_

The voice was right there! She sat up, fumbling around her pockets for the stone. Where was the stone?!

 _'I...'_

It breathed into her ear and Liz could feel the tears spring into her eyes. She wanted to cry. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, _'Oh Gods, please just go away!'_

The young mage panicked, pulling at the power again and letting her hand light up. It was completely encased in electricity as it danced and chirped around her roughly bandaged palm. But upon doing so, she could have sworn the voice got stronger. Her eyes darted around the empty room, but saw nothing. Just the aged furniture and the mattress she was sitting on. The vines on the walls seemed to create shadows, as if taunting her. Trying to scare her.

 _'Why are you afraid?'_ It rasped, as though it were next to her. But then she heard footsteps. Outside into the debilitated halls. Templars?

Liz ignored her fear, letting the room go dark again. She didn't move. Couldn't.

Footsteps, hesitant. Tap tap _tap._ Pause. Tap tap.

Then came a blue glow. It slowly got brighter and brighter, until something passed the door. A man. An older man she could have sworn she'd seen before. He didn't even look into the room as she sat on the bed, frozen.

Right! It had been one of the mages from the tower. She'd bumped into him once or twice, asking for directions. Liz stood up and slowly walked to the door, watching him leave. That's when she began to shadow him, careful not to step on any loose stones. The last thing she needed was to alert him of her presence.

What had been his name? Ralph...? No... Whatever be the case, what was he doing down here?

She silently asked herself questions, growing more curious by the minute. Then he stopped and called out a name, "Cole?"

Why was he looking for someone down here? Was he, also, an escapee like her?

* * *

 **Cole**

The light that erupted from Rhys' staff was the only thing that lit up the small corridor that the two men stood in. Rhys was an older man, a trimmed beard framing his strong features. His usually neat black hair was unkempt from his travels in the bowels of the Spire.

Occasionally the light would dim, then brighten. The young man stared at his feet, blue eyes flicking up at his friend every now and again. His expression, at first, was that of forced blankness. Then anger, disappointment? It was hard for Cole to tell, but he just … he could have sworn he could _feel_ it rolling off of him. Which didn't make sense at all.

The scraggly young man stood in the dimmed corridor in front of his friend. His stomach was in knots and his chest full of grief. His closest and only friend had taken a step back from him in what he perceived as fear. He'd found out about Cole's escapades in the dungeon of the Pit. He found out that he was The Ghost of the Spire. The one that had been killing the mages in the cells in cold blood.

Rhys quite obviously did not agree with what he was doing. Cole hadn't intended for his friend to find out, but he did. And he definitely didn't anticipate the reaction. As the older mage took a step back, Cole's face twisted into grief.

"The only way you can stay..." The mage spoke, referring to the reason behind his killing. "Is to kill someone?"

"I know they'll see me." Cole whispered, eyes darting to the ground as he fiddled with the frayed ends of his hand wrappings. "I don't know why, but I do. So I go to them. The moment they die, they look at me. They know I'm the one that's killed them, and that makes me the most important thing in the world." He could feel his facial expression change as anguish took hold, a tear in his chest becoming larger. He continued, his voice a hoarse croak. " _I've never been that important to anyone._ "

"And … being important makes you real?" Rhys asked, trying to make sense of his killings. Of the situation. Cole didn't understand, how could he not know? Was it not that way for him? He looked up at his friend and blinked.

"Doesn't it do that for you?"

Then Rhys tried to tell Cole that killing people wasn't going to change anything. But could he really be sure? That's when his friend stepped forward and grabbed the young man by his shoulders, trying to convince him to go with him to talk to the templars. Rhys was so sure that Cole was being manipulated somehow or being controlled by magic.

But it wasn't so.

He knew that they wouldn't be able to help him. He didn't want them to help him. He didn't trust the templars one bit. Eventually the conversation escalated into an argument, causing Cole to flee out into the empty and dark corridors.

During his frantic running, Cole could have sworn he saw a crouched shadow around one of the corners just as he got to the bottom of the staircase. But he was distracted right as he heard Rhys yell.

"Stop!" _'BOOM'_ A bolt of white energy lanced down the corridor, striking a wall right next to him. The stone exploded with a crack of thunder, sending rocks flying everywhere in front of Cole. He let out a cry in fear, his heart hammering against his ribcage. Why why? The thunderous boom and Cole's cry drowned out, what sounded like, another screech of fear.

By the time he saw his friend's boots come into view, he was cowering on the ground and shaking. Cole wanted so badly to just curl up and cry. To disappear. He didn't ask for this. Never this. Was Rhys going to strike him down? Did he hate him, now? He ignored the loose stones that fell from the ceiling.

 _Cole didn't want to die._

So he clutched the stolen dagger, though not his own, and held it threateningly.

"I don't want to hurt you." Cole warned, locking gazes with Rhys. Neither seemed willing to give and it appeared to make his friend angry. It was evident on his face.

"Why not?" The mage snapped out, "I can see you. Won't killing _me_ make you more real?"

Cole flinched, his chest clenching at his words. It was almost like a slap to the face. Especially with the tone he used. The young man felt his eyes narrow. He had no choice, did he? He would have to hurt his friend...no. _He couldn't._

Cole leapt to the side, intent on getting away. Rhys let out a grunt and unleashed some energy from his staff. The young man twisted his body and dodged the attack with the grace of a cat. Dirt and rocks fell, shielding him in a cloud of dust.

It seemed luck was on his side as a yell came from the opposite end of the corridor. A woman, from the sounds of it. She stopped Rhys and began to talk, her black hair tied up in a bun of sorts. They spoke back and forth, the woman (templar?) and Rhys. Cole used this to his advantage and hid, but remained nearby.

He was afraid. So _so_ afraid. Why did this have to happen? The conversation between the two didn't even seem to register to him as he curled inwardly and began to shut down. Cole clasped his hands in his hair and began to rock, head against his knees.

Part of him felt as though he should go and try to help his friend, but the other was too frightened to move. Too scared to leave his hiding place around the corner. Even though he knew that she would not be able to see him.

He and Rhys had met a while ago, maybe a year. Two? He couldn't recall completely, but he'd been completely baffled that someone could see him. Hear him. Remember him. He was afraid at first, sure. But Cole grew to like Rhys. He had always been there for him. He taught him how to play chess and talked about the people in the tower above.

And now he was mad at Cole for his actions in the dungeons. He hated Cole. He just knew it.

The young man let out a whimper from his spot on the ground. He sat there for a moment, shaking. He couldn't even seem to think straight through the grief he felt. That is, until he heard approaching footsteps. The footsteps sounded hesitant.

When the young man froze and looked up, eyes squinting at the sudden illumination in the hallway. There, stood the young boy he'd met only days back. His matted and choppy brown hair fell in clumps on the sides of his face. He stared apprehensively down at Cole.

"Y-You're … They did not take you."

What? Did he think that the templars would take him? Cole had already told him that they couldn't see him. But even Rhys didn't seem to believe him, at first. So it must have been a normal reaction. Cole simply shook his head at the statement, wondering what he should do.

"That was your friend, correct?" She asked, getting a faint nod out of the young man. "Do you know the way out?"

Another nod. Cole didn't know him. He'd even attacked him in the cell and got away. Although he didn't seem to show any hostility toward him, so perhaps he didn't know it was Cole that tried to … tried to...

Rhys' face flickered in his mind. His reaction at Cole's deeds. The young man winced and looked at the stone floor, trying to will the pain away. It hurt. It hurt so much. Rhys was mad, hated him even. Maker, what has he done?

"You are... Cole, right? Rhys called you Cole." He spoke quietly and shifted on his feet. Which, Cole noticed, were bruised and dirty. His eyes flicked up to his face and the boy seemed to contemplate something for a moment before nodding, "I am Erin. You wouldn't happen to know if there is an exit, do you?"

"Which one?" He asked, wondering how Erin seemed to know Rhys. The young mage tilted his head to the side and blinked.

"The one that would leave me least likely to die by the hands of templars." Was his blunt answer, as if the answer should have been obvious. Cole only nodded numbly, before standing up cautiously. The young man shifted awkwardly a bit, trying to get a read on the boy before he turned and headed off in the direction of the sewers.

Cole, afterall, knew this place like the back of his hand.

But something about Erin made him feel uneasy. He didn't know what. Perhaps it was the fact that the boy could see him. Remember him, even. It shouldn't bother him, right? He'd kind of wanted that, in fact. Hadn't he? That's when he spotted his ornate dagger peeking just outside of Erin's waistband.

Cole frowned, wondering how he could go about getting it back.

They advanced down the debilitated hallways, water trickling and dripping from the ceiling in some places. Until, they happened upon a broken down section filled with water. Pillars jutted out, offering a chance to hop across. Cole hopped atop one gracefully, as if he'd had much practice in doing so. He turned on his heel, staring over at Erin.

Through his matted dark hair and dirt smudged face, he could tell that he was irritated just from the look in his eyes as he stared up at him. Guarded brown eyes seemed to take in Cole's appearance almost cautiously, as if waiting for him to strike out and hurt him. The boy tilted his head, expression carefully passive, before finally speaking up.

"I don't know if you're aware, but I'm not exactly the most athletic person on the planet." Was his bland response, his tone rang throughout the empty confines of the tunnels they were in. Planet? He did have an odd way of speaking, now that he thought about it. Cole shifted from his place atop the rock, water surrounding him.

"But out is this way."

"I can't swim, either. I'll drown." The boy defended, crossing his thin arms across his chest. Cole stared for a moment. How had he gotten this far without dying, if he cannot even swim? If the boy was so incapable, couldn't he just overpower him and take his dagger back?

Killing the boy didn't serve a purpose right then. Especially since he didn't feel the _need_ to. Not yet, anyway.

Cole hopped back onto solid ground and walked toward Erin. Though he did give pause. Erin's eyes were narrowed as he took in Cole's appearance. He knew from experience what kind of expression that was. He looked like he just realized something. This caused the young man to shift uncomfortably.

"You were the one I hit." He finally broke the silence, "The keys and dagger belong to you."

Cole felt himself tense and his fingers twitched. He thought about taking out his dagger to defend himself, but Erin made no movement to attack or grab his weapon. Or, rather, Cole's weapon. That was _his_ dagger.

"They were going to make you tranquil." He informed, getting a confused look out of the boy.

"So you wanted to … help me?"

"Yes I-" Cole shifted on his feet, his eyes averting and refusing to meet the mage's. Although, he was certain it was not the kind of _help_ Erin was thinking of.

"I understand." Erin's face was of forced neutrality, "Is there another way out?"

Cole stared. And stared. But the boy's expression would not budge. Would not allow him to read it. But he got the feeling that Erin was about to do something. Something bad. He took a step back and shook his head.

That's when the hallways seemed to get brighter, showing off the thin sheen of perspiration on the stone walls. Lightning burst forth, coating the mage's arms almost protectively. It danced and twitched, giving Cole the distinct feeling that Erin was distressed. He didn't know how he got that notion at all, but he took a step back. Cole's hand twitched at his hip above his dagger.

"Tch!" The boy lunged forward and tried to tackle Cole, his little arms wrapping around his waist. His back slammed against the damp wall, his arms coming up in defense. What was he doing? As far as he knew, he hadn't done anything to prompt this kind of reaction.

The two got into a scuffle, both trying to pin the other. They fought for the upper hand. Though it was painfully obvious who was stronger than who. Erin, being the small boy that he was, couldn't seem to hold up against Cole's strength. Although Cole was not much stronger, due to his rail thin body.

Grunts and hisses echoed through the darkened corridors. The only sound to be heard other than the trickle of water or the hum of silence. At some point or another, Erin tried to pull out a dagger but it'd been promptly knocked out of his hand.

"Were you going to kill me?" Erin spat, arms shaking as he struggled to keep Cole at bay. _Maybe_. "Like you did the other mages?"

He knew.

' _Yes.'_

He didn't answer. At least, not outwardly. Didn't have time to, as he flipped their position so that he was on top of the boy. Cole pressed his palm flat against Erin's chest, trying to pin him down when – he paused, surprised. He flexed his fingers experimentally.

Soft.

Erin was a girl?

 _ **'THWACK!'**_

The side of his face exploded in pain as he— _she_ took advantage of his surprise and punched him. "Unnf!" He staggered off of her and skidded backwards onto his bottom. Cole began to scoot back when his hand bumped into something hard. Erin rolled into a kneeling position, wiping away stray blood from her lip as she readied herself. He clutched at the object frantically, a familiar feel to it.

 _His dagger._

That's when her eyes drifted off of him and toward the exit into the sewers. He didn't think. He couldn't. Distracted, Erin didn't even have time to react as his much larger frame collided with her smaller one.

A small squeak escaped her lips as they hit the ground. She struggled on her back and his thighs held her in place. Their eyes met, cool blue on frantic brown. Back to square one.

Only it seemed she was exhausting faster than he, having been wandering alone for days without food and minimal water. Her hands wrapped around his wrists as he went in and attempted to plunge the dagger into her chest.

Arms shaking, shuddering breath. He couldn't tell who was more exhausted, at that point.

"Aaah." She hissed, his dagger closing in. Inch by inch. The tip of the dagger gleamed ominously in the blue light emitted from the glowstone at their left. The light danced across her frightened features, eyes zeroed in on him. Only him.

Cole let out a breath and felt the dagger dig into the bottom of her rib cage, but not enough. It wasn't enough. It would be the same, just like the others. He's done this many times, already and-

"W-What would _he_ think of this?" She asked, voice swift—small and shuddering. And just like that, his thoughts seemed to unravel.

What would—what would Rhys think? Think of what he was about to do? Again. This. Killing this girl.

The face that his friend had made when he realized Cole had been killing the mages flashed before his eyes and his grip loosened. Doubt flooded his mind. Rhys disapproved of the killings. Disapproved. And he'd gotten him into trouble, in the process.

His moment of hesitation seemed to be all she needed.

The hairs on his arms stood up and Erin's hands suddenly became warm. Warmer. Hot. They were scalding hot as a bluish light enveloped her arms and climbed up and connected with his hands. He didn't even have time to pull away. His muscles locked up and his body began to shake as the electricity jolted through his system.

When the light extinguished, Cole's body went slack and he slumped forward. She was able to work his hands so that he didn't stab her in the chest, yet he still felt flesh give.

"Aah!" She cried out and began to struggle, only to make it worse. The metal seemed to dig deeper into her torso. Cole couldn't be sure where she'd gotten hit, because his mind felt foggy and his body refused to listen to him.

The last thing he remembered was the faint sounds of whimpering as his head lolled and his world went black.

* * *

 _Sometimes...sometimes it haunts me to think back on that moment. She could have died, aching and alone all because of me. Just like the other mages._


	6. Fighting to Hold On

" _Fighting to Hold On"_

When Liz awoke, it was to the whispered sounds of the hallways. Her eyes were crusted shut, making it difficult to crack them open. Slow, ragged breaths echoed through the empty area. Her heart picked up. She couldn't see anything. The inky blackness felt as though it were swallowing her. Arms, sluggish, the young woman couldn't even see her own hands in front of her face.

The throbbing in her side had not ceased in the least. She was afraid to move. If she did, would she bleed out? The only reason she was probably even alive was because of the clotting. Liz blinked, and blinked again. Still nothing.

Had she gone blind?

Someone let out a breath from beside her, causing her to jump. She turned. Nothing.

"H-Hello?" She called weakly, followed by the echoes of her voice in the lonely maze she was stuck in. She tried to listen for Cole's breathing. Perhaps he was knocked out or asleep? In which case, she needed to get out of here. He wouldn't be happy once he … once he... She shifted, hearing light creaking and a soft surface beneath her give.

Why was she on a bed?

Hadn't she passed out on the ground? Liz dug around in her memories. The last thing she remembered was Cole's body going slack above hers from the jolt she'd given him. Then the dagger had dug deep into her flesh. She felt the wound, just below her left breast. Confirming that she was still injured. Liz hissed.

Yep, still injured.

 _'Don't have to... not... not.'_ A voice whispered, echoing through the room. Liz felt her body freeze up as she recognized the tone. It was as though her blood ran cold, _'Not … alone.'_

"Go away!" She called, not caring if she attracted attention. She tried to ignore it, tried to will it away. But it only seemed to close in further.

 _'Let...'_ It breathed, coming closer. _'Let me...'_

The sound of slow footsteps echoed, causing her to go on high alert. She couldn't move. She was helpless. She couldn't do anything. She was going to die. Oh god. Oh god.

 _'Let me …_ _ **help**_ _...'_ It hissed in her ear, causing her heartbeat to pick up. It threatened to gallop right out of her chest.

The footsteps only seemed to get louder, as they made the water in the hallway splash. She was in a room, she realized. The hallway just outside of the door at her left.

 _'I can make it all go away. You won't die. Just let me help you.'_ It's voice was getting clearer, almost quicker. Frantic. _'The templars, those people. They condemn you—'_

"L-L...Leave me..." She rasped.

 _ **'LET ME IN.'**_ It demanded, voice reverberating in her skull, claws sank into her tender flesh. Her wound. She could feel it digging into her. Liz screamed, forgetting about the footsteps in the hallway. She didn't even notice how they sped up, approaching in a haste.

"Get off of me! Get away! G-G _et out!_ "

"S-Stop! Erin!" Cole's voice cut through her fear addled mind, "You're hurting yourself! Erin!"

Liz stopped flailing, her chest heaving painfully as her vision focused in. Blue light revealed the room faintly. She turned to see Cole's fearful expression. He looked as though he had no idea what to do. The voice was gone.

"W-W-...What..." Her fingers twitched and she winced at the jolt of pain in her side. Her fingers were digging into her wound. What? When had she done that?

Perhaps it was when... when she tried to get that thing off. When she tried to keep the claws out of her.

That's when she realized Cole was standing above her. The man that had tried to kill her. This prompted another fear-filled haze as she tried to wriggle away.

"You! Get away from me!" She snapped, trying to draw upon the power within her. Though this time it was out of reach, like she was trying to grasp at air. Nothing. Liz began to hyperventilate. "Y-You were... you."

"I'm sorry." The young man's voice seemed to wobble, "Rhys would be angry if you died."

The man held up what looked like a pouch of some sort. He cradled it against his chest, as if to hide himself behind the object. The glowstone was placed on the floor next to the mattress she was positioned on. The frame had long since broken and fallen apart from age.

The awkward man tried to take a step forward, but paused when Liz tensed. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked like he wanted to say something, but his brows knitted as if in thought.

"What is in the bag?" Liz croaked, her mouth as dry as the Sahara Desert.

"The healers use these. I want... I want to help." Cole's voice cracked as he bowed his head, almost shyly. The same man she knew murdered people, killed people in cold blood. He appeared to be a shy young man, unsure of himself. She almost let her guard down. Almost. Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at his sharp features. Observing.

But she was in no position to refuse help, even if it was from the one that tried to kill her. Liz was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She sighed and continued to stare up at him. Trying to gauge his expression. His eyes were hidden behind a curtain of blonde hair, eyes darting away shyly. Looking anywhere but at her own.

Liz chuckled wryly, almost not believing what she was seeing. "You tried to kill me. Now you want to help me. I don't understand you."

He simply stood there, saying nothing in response to her words. He only lowered his head even further, refusing to look up at her as he clutched the pouch between his thin fingers.

"If you try to harm me, I will kill you." She warned, wriggling her fingers weakly. Liz could feel the strength slowly being sapped from her body as it grew colder and colder. She knew she was dying. Slowly. But she was dying. Reopening the wound was probably the result of that.

Wonderful.

"I won't hurt you." He informed lightly, opening the pouch and sifting through it's contents.

"You need to clean the wound with—w-what are you doing?!" Liz flinched as he dumped some sort of thick liquid on her side, the cold contents trickled down her side. It felt like her flesh lit itself on fire as she squeaked and bit her tongue to keep her scream in.

Stars filled her vision, a growl escaping her clenched jaw.

Cole looked almost frightened as he dropped the pouch and the vial, taking a stumbling step backward and into the darkness of the room. Liz writhed and hissed, trying not to move her body to the best of her ability.

She thought she could hear him saying something, stuttering and apologizing. But the words didn't register through the pain.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I saw the healers, they use that to help the mages and—I didn't." Were the rushed words that registered. She took in ragged breaths as she focused on the ceiling above. Vines and roots jutted out of the cracked and aged stone, winding down the wall at her right. Her hands clenched and unclenched, trying to ride out the ebb and flow of the pain in her side.

When she turned her head, intent on chewing his head off, he was gone. Just gone. Like he'd never been there at all, in fact. Liz figured her expression right then looked absolutely demonic, so perhaps he ran away? She blinked and squinted in attempt to find the odd young man but it was to no avail.

Like a kicked puppy, he had probably skittered out the door before she could give him a piece of her mind.

The young mage did, however, feel quite horrible once she realized that something inside of that odd formula he applied stopped the bleeding completely. In fact, she was able to sit up. Though the latter activity took much effort on her part as she groaned and shifted in the dusty mattress.

* * *

Escaping had not been a simple task. The water had burned her wounds and movement had been slow, at best. Luckily, it wasn't deep enough to get into her major wound. Her joints remained stiff, even as she emerged from what she assumed was the sewers of Val Royeaux. If it hadn't been so dark out, she was sure that she would have been spotted and taken back to that hellhole.

Even in her exhausted state, she couldn't help but feel the relief when she saw the open skies. The stars. The moon. The moon _ **s.**_

The young woman's choppy hair stuck to the side of her sweaty face, her lungs burning from overexertion as she stared up at the sky. She wouldn't stop. Couldn't. Not even if she wanted to. Even in the dense foliage of the forest, where the moons refused to make an appearance.

She was stuck, dirty and alone. With nothing but her stolen dagger and medical pouch that Cole had left her. Her clothing left something to be desired, but perhaps she could liberate some from a nearby town or house?

Liz still couldn't get over the fact that none of this should even be happening. She was but a college student, thrust into a world not her own. A world where electricity didn't even exist. Horses, armor, magic— _magic_. Magic, of all things!

Liz squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to keep moving. In her injured state, it was rather hard to even traverse the terrain as she limped about. But she was able to, nonetheless.

The young mage's feet crunched through the fallen leaves, denoting the arrival of autumn. Autumn meant winter was near. Winter meant death. Death. She didn't want to die again. Liz choked back the desire to cry. The desire to just lay down and give up. Lay down and just …

 _How can one not think these kinds of things? Why can't it ever be easy?_

Life wanted her to lie down and give up. Life wanted her to perish when winter came. Life was hard. And she refused to give up. If she was going to die again, it would be when she was fighting back with all she had.

That night, she couldn't even sleep properly. She curled in on herself underneath a pile of fallen leaves she'd gathered for insulation. It did help, for what it was worth. At least it wasn't freezing. Chilly? Sure. Freezing? No. Thankfully.

Liz barely slept, her body shaking not just from the cool air. But from the situation she was now in. Her mind wouldn't allow her to rest, only mull over the infinite possibilities as to how this was even happening. She just had to keep moving forward.

"I've finally escaped, now what do I do..." Liz muttered to herself as she breathed heavily. Erin's body was, yet again, beginning to cramp up and threaten to shut down on her.

Her injuries didn't help.

It was painfully evident she wasn't on Earth anymore, now that she got the chance to look around the outside world. Even the foliage looked different. She'd seen something that looked like a deer, but it was white. White! It's antlers even looked odd, to her. She'd never seen anything like it before. Don't get her started on the creepy bald rabbits.

That next day was spent foraging for some kind of food. Liz's body was sore from laying on the hard forest floor. She'd even tried to read the little handheld book in the healer's pouch, but it was in some odd language that she couldn't read. No matter how hard she stared at the pages, she couldn't even begin to comprehend what any of the symbols meant.

It didn't even look like any of the known languages she's ever come across during her time on Earth. The thought irked her. Hadn't they been speaking in English? Everyone she met spoke it, why did all of the books look like they were written in gibberish!? Well, gibberish to her.

Liz's fingers were numb from the chilled weather as she scraped at the dirt with her nails. Already her nails were chipping and her hands looked a little worse for the wear. Some of the roots being rather familiar, even in this odd terrain.

"Tch." She hissed and pulled her hand away, fingertips bleeding. Perhaps she should have used a stick. Her stare turned flat as she splayed her blackened hands in front of her face. Of course. A puff of air erupted from her nostrils as she said a silent 'thank you' to the plant that provided her with the meal.

A habit she'd picked up from growing up with her grandmother's words. _'Always give thanks to Mother Earth for what she provides.'_ The scolding yet gentle words filtered through her memory. She'd been quite adamant on drilling those teachings into Liz's head.

"Mreow." A sound broke the silence, making her ears twitch. The young woman turned her head and spotted a grey tabby housecat sitting next to the tree. It's fur was fluffy as it sat there and observed her with it's head tilted.

"Hello." She greeted and stood up slowly, as to not startle it. She held the roots against her chest protectively. The cat made another noise and turned and darted off into the undergrowth. Liz sighed and began wiping the dirt off of the meal she'd claimed for the night.

Perhaps she should have tried to catch the cat. The young woman was not opposed to eating house pets, afterall. Especially in times like these.

For the first time in her life, she was glad that she was taught these things at such a young age. Deep in thought, she almost didn't notice a grey blob in her peripheral. Liz's eyes flicked to the side and she spotted an old looking shack of sorts. The sight caused hope to fill her chest. The mage made her way carefully toward the building, still cradling her meal.

"Hello?" She called, trying to be sure that no one else may be occupying the place. Upon no answer, she knocked for good measure before inviting herself in. Nothing. It looked completely abandoned, like it hadn't been used in months. Some dried leaves of some sort lay on the creaky table, next to a mortar and pestle. Some vials and a shelf full of books sat on the far end.

The wind blew against the shack, sending a hollow sound through the building as she took a few steps inside. The floorboards creaked underneath her weight as her worn boots shifted on the aged carpet.

Liz squinted at the things as she ran her chipped fingernails across the binders on the shelf. Dust collected on her fingertip and she let out a low hum. She still couldn't read any of the script. The thought irritated her. She had no problem communicating with any of the people she'd met, but reading... reading on the other hand.

Rather unfortunate.

* * *

The shack would provide a good source of shelter from the upcoming week, if she set it up correctly. Upon closer inspection, there was already wood piled up on the side of the thing. This made her wonder if someone planned on returning at any point.

She figured that she'd find out soon enough, anyway.

The snares she'd set were unsuccessful thus far, making her feel a little disheartened. Liz knew that she would likely have to go out and try to hunt using the bow she had found in the shack. There were only a few arrows, so she'd either have to try to craft some or buy some in a nearby town. But even then, she didn't trust herself to not have an anxiety attack and accidentally burn something down.

All in all, it wasn't looking too promising. Especially with the days becoming colder and the nights even more relentless. Her body was still achey and she could have sworn that perhaps the injuries had gotten infected at one point. But that had not been the case. Evidently the paste in the pouch that Cole had used was some type of antibacterial. Or so she thought. It numbed the pain and almost looked like it was healing faster than it should.

The young woman ran her fingertip along the jagged cut along her upper ribcage. Liz winced as she reapplied proper bandaging and let out a shaky sigh.

"Can't give up." She muttered to herself, placing her hand upon the brass dagger she'd liberated from Cole. She shifted when she heard a meow come from the entrance of the shack. It was the cat. The housecat she'd been seeing pop up every now and again. Now that she could get a closer look at him, he was riddled with scars and one of his eyes looked like it had cataracts. "Hello, is this your house?"

"Mreow."

"I hope you do not mind my intruding. Where is your guardian?"

"Mreow." The cat trotted in through the door and jumped up on the table, which used to hold many dusty trinkets and books. Which were now set aside and neatly tucked away. The cat sat down, tail curled in front of it's body, and stared up at her with it's remaining eye.

"I'll take care of it as best I can, okay?" Liz paused and blinked a few times, before pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm talking to a cat. How lonely am I?"

A snort burst through the small animal's nose, causing her to open her eyes curiously. Did it just? Liz's hand dropped and she squinted down at the animal. The cat was cleaning itself, paw flicking behind it's ear calmly.

She was going insane. Definitely.

Perhaps she should just eat the cat. Unfortunately, she knew she might have to if her hunts continued to be unsuccessful. Liz always did love cats, so that alone didn't endear her to the thought. But if it meant surviving...

"Hopefully I will be back with food." She muttered to herself as she cinched the belt around her waist and adjusted the quiver and dagger at her hip. Feeding off of roots and plants she _thought_ were edible was hardly enough nutrition for her body.

The small mage grabbed the bow from the wall and headed out into the woods. But not before setting some of the tobacco she'd found down on the ground next to a tree. For a safe hunt. She said a quick prayer and hopped through the wooded area as quietly as possible.

But life was never kind to her, was it? The sun was beginning to sink below the trees, casting the woods in a dimmed blue hue as night approached. Liz could not find anything during her hunt. Something did find _her_ , though.

The young woman stared at a scraggly looking human, a knife held out threateningly. His hair was matted, much like her own, eyes wild and sunken in. She was far from civilization, she knew. She made sure.

 _What was he even doing here?_

"Hand it over!" He practically screeched. Liz knew that at the distance he was at, pulling out an arrow would take too long and she'd just end up getting stabbed. So she held up her hands and offered her bow, the only thing she could think of that he would want.

"This is all that I have." She spoke in a level tone, trying not to agitate the man. Evidently it was the wrong thing to do, because as soon as she opened her mouth he lunged forward and tried to stab her. "Ah!"

She dodged out of the way and tripped on a root in the ground. Liz's body was still recovering from the rather large gash she'd gotten on her side. So her balance was off kilter. Her fall was ungraceful as her body went tumbling into the grass. The scraggly man turned around and got ready to lunge again.

"Look! You can take my things, just-" She was cut off, before she could continue. He yelled, interrupting her spiel. She cursed as he came forth, the dagger grazing her arm as she flailed about. With it knocked out of his hand, she tackled him.

She was quickly realizing how much of a disadvantage she had. Her body was smaller and much less muscular than his. She was also still suffering from exhaustion and injuries. At this rate, she'd be the one laying on the ground dead. The man grabbed a fistful of her choppy hair and pushed her into the unforgiving ground. Her fingers twitched and her eyes dilated into pinpricks. She couldn't—it was-

"S-Stop! I can't-" It was happening again! Just like the time at the library. She wanted to cry. _'No no. nonono not again, please.'_

Something inside of her opened up, like she was grabbing at it subconsciously. Instinct.

Her or him? Her or him?

She chose herself. Who wouldn't?

Much like before, something inside swelled and burned. Begging to be released. Her hands, which were pressed against his chest, suddenly became warm. Warmer. Hot. Why was it so _hot?_

Liz screamed, everything in the vicinity exploded into a mass of reds and oranges.

 _ **'BOOM!'**_

It was blinding, her eyes squeezed shut to shield from the onslaught of light. Her ears were ringing and it felt like her body had been pushed into the ground even further. She wasn't sure if the blast itself knocked the wind out of her or if it was the fire stealing the oxygen.

The man, whom she hadn't even learned the name of, didn't even make a noise. Nothing. Liz's vision wavered and pain laced up her arms and into her shoulders. Almost as if the nerves themselves were on fire.

Her eyes flew open again as she rolled around, knowing exactly what that feeling was. The bandages on her burned arms were alight from the flame.

A piercing wail shot through the air as she came to a stop and curled into a fetal position. Fire fire. Her skin was boiling, burning! She could see through the bandages, then. Her angry red skin shone through as parts of the injury reopened. Liz couldn't control the tears that came out of her eyes, then.

The cool air shifted on her skin and she let out pained whimpers.

It was dark, then. In the distance, crackling like a campfire, was the scraggly man that had tried to kill her for her things. Or, at least, what was left of him.

There were a few smaller fires scattered amongst the remains of what was once lush greenery. Just like the time she'd conjured fire, she'd done it again. Just like the time at the library. Just like...

What was left of the man's body crackled and popped as the fire ate away at his flesh and clothing. _This_ was what happened when she was in danger. _She_ caused this. Like a bomb.

 **She was dangerous.**

 _It's not real. It's not – not real. Its-_

* * *

Emotionally drained wouldn't begin to describe how she felt as she limped back to the shack that she unofficially claimed as her own. The whole incident was scarring, pulling at something deep within her. Tossing the bits and pieces of her sanity for the birds to feed on. It would forever be seared into her memory.

Such is the way of life.

She could still smell the smoke. No. That wasn't it. Was it pipe smoke? Liz huffed and wondered if perhaps the occupant of the house was finally back. Would she ask to stay? Likely not. She was too prideful to ask for help. The thought of having to depend on someone again made her stomach churn uneasily.

The small mage used her walking stick to hobble up to the house. That's when she heard what only can be described as a smoker's cough.

"Hello?" She called weakly as she knocked on the shack. A few moment's passed. Nothing. "Hello, is anyone home?"

Still nothing.

She pushed the door open, but didn't see anyone. Only the old cat that kept her company. He lay curled up on the shoddy bed, his head slowly lifting to examine her. Liz sighed, wondering if maybe she was beginning to go insane. Earlier she'd heard someone whispering into her ear (which she theorized was a demon, again). Now she was hearing people coughing when no one was there.

Liz shuffled around through the drawers, ignoring the mirror atop the dresser. It had a cloth draped over it, ensuring that she couldn't catch a glimpse of herself. The body she was currently in definitely wasn't her own. Instead of long black hair, she had short and choppy brown hair. Her skin was darker than her already tanned skin from back...wherever she was from. In this body, she also had freckles. Tons of them, in fact.

Just thinking about it made her head spin. Thinking about the way the person in the mirror glared at her. Accusing her of stealing what wasn't hers. That incident in itself was proof enough that she wasn't home. Not on Earth. Liz realized then that her chances of getting back were slim. Didn't that mean she was dead in her world, then? She was dead. So was...so was Elise...

Liz's hands clamped onto something inside of the drawer, her breath coming out in hisses. That's when the rock dangling around her neck decided to glow.

"Erin? Erin, are you there?" It whispered, tearing her attention away from her thoughts.

"Y-Yes?" She asked hesitantly. Liz knew now that the girl's body she was inhabiting was named Erin. Obviously this … Maxwell Trevelyan's beloved younger sister. He spoke to her from time to time, since her escape. It'd only been a week, but he was so caring... so... he loved his sister. The thought itself pained her.

"You don't sound well, are you hurt?" _How did he know?_ "Your voice sounded strained."

 _Ah._

"The hunt... didn't... turn out well." She breathed as she poured some water onto her burns to clean them off. Liz hissed as the pain only seemed to amplify.

"Are you okay? You need to be more careful..." The voice on the other side of the Sending Stone asked. A whisper, as if he was trying to remain quiet.

"Nothing. Just a small burn." Why did she feel the need to hide such things from him? She hardly knew him. Bits and pieces of Liz's own life from back on Earth was already missing. Forgotten. And it bothered her. Small portions of Erin's memories, however, seemed to pop up at times. Very rarely, sure. But they were there.

That must be the reason she cared for this Maxwell fellow. He was Erin's older brother.

"Erin." The voice sighed, "Is there a poultice of some sort in that abandoned shack at all?"

A few moments of careful digging and she grabbed the bottle inside of the medical pack she carried with her.

"Is it a type of antibiotic?" She questioned, turning the thing in her fingers. She'd been wondering what the thick liquid was for. She'd even tried to taste it once before. Never again.

"A what?"

"... nevermind." Liz stared down at her arms, feeling the tears well up in her eyes. He understood nothing. She could conjure fire. She was using a rock to talk to some man she didn't know. Or, at least, she thought she didn't know him.

But the young woman was growing more and more unsure of that by the day. Memories, not her own, would sometimes assault her mind. Happy times with Maxwell, a caring family. The Trevelyans. Her family. Supposedly.

"I have to leave. Please be safe." Maxwell's voice filtered through the stone before it dimmed and finally went dark. Liz didn't answer. She wasn't Erin. Or was she? This wasn't her body. She was Liz, the one that had taken Erin's life.

 _Erin Trevelyan. Who are you?_

She thought to herself as she carefully began to apply the odd ointment type thing. It was more like a really thick liquid that she poured over her burns. She knew from experience that she shouldn't wrap burns too tightly.

The tabby housecat sat beside her and observed as she finished up with everything. Her small fingers flicked around deftly, as to not damage herself any more than she already was. His tail flicked back and forth, his lone eye staring at her lazily.

"What?"

"Mreow."

"It won't stop me from trying to get food for us, don't worry." She huffed tiredly and slowly made her way toward the fireplace, which took up a small portion of the wall in the shack. Some of the wood on the wall was chipped away and worn with age, letting in the cool air from outside. "Where I am from, I needn't bother with these things."

It was better to talk to this cat than herself. That way she wasn't as crazy, right? Though Liz couldn't help but think back upon her world. Her home. The cat sat nearby, silent as ever, as she positioned the wood.

"Grandma taught me to respect the gifts given from the hunt. Unfortunately, the hunt today was an example of just how bad things could go." She spoke to herself as she finished positioning everything. Her arms shook and stung, but the ointment seemed to have dulled the pain a bit.

"Bow hunting is out of the question- _ergh_." She tried to light the kindle she'd set at the bottom with some flint and steel. "Snares will suffice, f-for now. S- _Shit_."

It sparked and the bits caught fire, slowly growing. Usually one would need to standby and help it grow, but the sight of the element caused her chest to freeze. Liz felt bile beginning to rise as the images from earlier flashed before her eyes. The scraggly man. The smell of burnt meat. The bodies of the apprentices in the library laying around her, the templar man against the wall. The sickening crunch of bones as his upper half was separated from his bottom half—

The mage stumbled back and felt her butt hit the floor with a _'THUMP!'._ Her brown eyes darted around and her hands flew to her mouth, her stomach turning. She could have sworn she could still _smell_ it. Taste it, even. That's when she scrambled out the door and slammed it shut, taking in lungfuls of air as she pushed away the nausea.

Breathe in. Out. In. Out. Liz needed only to focus on the cool autumn air as it bit into her skin. Her cheeks were already starting to flush as she crouched forward and stared at the dark ground beneath her. She was reduced to this. A fumbling mess. Barely hanging onto the frayed edges of her sanity. This world... she was not made for this world. Wherever _this_ was.

The woman stood up straight and leaned against the debilitated shack, her gaze on the darkened sky above her.

Life was much harder, after that. It was kind of like a wake up call, for Liz. A wake up call that she needed. Back home, she was expected to finish college and get a career. Finding a career and keeping a stable income being the hardest thing that one could really ever go through. Where she was from, at least. But that was a whole other animal.

Here … here it was different. While there were some definite similarities, that's all they could really be called. Similarities. _**Nothing**_ was the same. Liz was now in a time where they didn't even have _flush toilets_. If the lack of lights in the Trevelyan mansion were anything to go by. The handmade furniture and old masonry. Just bits she'd picked up on before she was shoved out into the cold unforgiving world completely unknown to her.

Something so simple was overlooked on Earth.

Here it was different. Here, it was kill or be killed. Here, she had to fight to survive. Whereas back home, the only thing she had to fight for was the remote.

Here, she had to hide because she was a mage. She could wield magic. _Magic_.

 _ **Liz was dangerous.**_ A thought that she couldn't get out of her head. She knew not the complexities that a 'mage' had to go through, but if the earlier incident was anything to go by... Hell, she could be a walking time bomb for all she knew. Nothing came without a price. And the fact that she could probably blow someone up or light them on fire just because she _thought_ about it? Perhaps Maxwell was wrong. People like her needed to be controlled. Put on a leash.

Liz stared down at her hands, eyes widened in fear. Little puffs of white mist floated out as she took in short raspy breaths. She clenched her hands, cursing her fear of people. For all she knew, this 'Circle Tower' killed mages. Humans, afterall, feared what they did not understand. Fear did horrible things to people.

Liz didn't want to die...

But enough of that, what she needed to focus on was surviving. As long as she stayed out here away from people, she couldn't hurt anyone. The only person she could hurt was herself. And she was okay with that.

She let out a sigh from her nose as she kicked the dirt up at her feet, the moonlight offering ample illumination. At least hunting and fishing had been pretty much drilled into the young woman's head since the day she could walk. One of the perks of growing up in a traditional Native American environment, she supposed. Most didn't care much for the culture, but her grandparents had been adamant on teaching her some things.

 _'Lizabeth help me with the wigwam. Liz gotta tan these hides! Liz Liz Liz.'_ The thought drifted through her head in her grandmother's voice, causing a saddened smile to grace her lips. She missed home so much it ached in her chest, a small tear that seemed only to get bigger as the days dragged on. A week, now? Two? It was hard to tell. Maybe those potato-like roots were not as edible as they seemed and they were messing with her head?

Not that she ever thought their teachings would come in handy. Thankfully she was a diligent student, just as she was in school. Liz's eyes slowly drifted from the dirt on the ground to the darkening sky, the stars peeking out and twinkling merrily.

Here she was lonely, alone—the emptiness settled in her gut. Realization setting in like the plague, sticking and clawing at her insides.

 _I really am_ _**alone**_ _._

That night she cried for the first time in years.

* * *

" _Little Light. Little Light, what's this?" A whisper floated through the air, or maybe perhaps inside of her head. A voice that she was never sure was male or female._

" _That's my television. See?" Little Liz giggled at her imaginary friend. How could he not know what a television was? Her mother was in the middle of watching an old Star Wars movie as she trotted into the other room. Her friend, nothing but a white shadow, floated along._

" _'Lizabeth, you didn't finish your dinner." Her grandmother crossed her arms and pointed at the table._

" _My friend was hungry, too."_

" _What have I told you about feeding the spirits?"_

" _Mom, you can't keep filling her head with your spirits nonsense. She's just a child!" Liz's mother snapped from the couch in the living room. Her grandmother turned toward the young woman, a scolding look on her wizened features._

" _Oh, Sarah. Teaching the young ones about the culture is important and you know it."_

 _Their conversation slowly escalated into an argument. While her mother had greatly disagreed with keeping the culture alive, as she'd found it pointless. Her grandmother had always believed in the teachings. She lived them. Breathed them. Passing them on to their younglings was important._

 _Little Liz stared blankly at the two as they threw words back and forth, voices muffled. Her friend of many years flicked around the two, as if attempting to calm them. The little shadow flitting, flickering, flying in circles._

 _That was the last time they spoke._


	7. What Is Magic?

"What Is Magic?"

Things were beginning to finally look up. Winter peeked around the corner, ever beautiful as she danced from the sky. She peppered the earth in a thin sheen of glittering fluff, the snow still as magical as it was the first time Liz saw it. The young woman grew up in the north but seeing the first bits of snow never ceased to amaze her.

The hunts weren't as successful as they should be, but she'd been able to get the animal currently on the ground in front of her. She flicked her brown gaze off of the overcast skies, ignoring the way the flakes of snow accumulated in her hair. The young woman stared. And stared. And stared at this odd looking deer.

Or, she _thought_ it was a deer.

Liz squinted down at the thing curiously, examining at the oddly shaped antlers. It resembled an antelope of some sort, though with it's blue and orange hide it made her almost feel … skeptical. The mage poked it with her bow, ensuring its death.

On one hand, she could try eating the thing she'd caught in her snare. It looked like a cross between a pig and a rabbit of some sort. It had human-like hands for feet and... Liz didn't know how to feel about it. Food was food, after all. Hopefully the animals were alright to eat. Scruffy didn't seem to mind eating any of them, in any case.

Scruffy, as she'd dubbed the old grey tabby, usually stayed at the shack and lazed around inside where it was warm and cozy.

After the animal was gutted, she left the innards for the scavengers and left an offering as a sign of respect. Liz hefted the beast through the thin layer of snow on the ground, dragging the carcass with great effort. It was proving to be a trying task, as her body was not made for such labor. Evidently, the girl was used to the life of a cushy noble. Most of said labor being taken care of by her hirelings.

"Erin..." She whispered, "You are _so_ out of shape." She huffed in a much louder tone, stepping out of the layer of underbrush that surrounded the small campsite where she resided. Once the thing was close enough to the shack, she dropped it and leaned forward. Liz's lungs burned as she took in huge gulps of air. Her hands gripped her knees as she caught her breath.

"I'd say so." Someone commented from behind her. She whipped around toward the owner of the voice, only to be greeted with the sight of a rather old and decrepit little man. He was obviously elven, as his tapered ears poked out of his white hair. "For one so young, you tire quite easily."

"Wha-" She snapped her mouth shut and eyed the man warily. Where on earth did he come from? Oh, well technically this wasn't Earth. But still... her point stands. "Er... can I help you?"

"The question is, can I help you?" He returned, staring down at the woman with a knowing glint in his lone eye. That's when something clicked.

"Is this your shack? If so, I could be on my way." Liz offered, her mind already bringing up questions. Where would she go? What would she do? She definitely can't go into a town, she could end up killing someone by accident. Being around people was _absolutely out of the question._

He, too, seemed to eye her with his only good eye. The other being clouded over like it had … cataracts. Liz got an uneasy feeling in her stomach as the wheels in her head began to turn.

"Such things are unneeded, child. I have been keeping watch of you." She merely squinted up at the elderly man, growing silent with questions. "Funny, you were quite talkative before your hunt."

That statement seemed to make a ridiculous connection in her head click.

"You're Scruffy." She stated simply, referring to the old grey tabby that usually occupied the house. The young woman almost didn't want to believe it, herself. But the blind eye and scars on the cat's face couldn't possibly be a coincidence, could it?

"Now, is that any way to talk to your elders?" He chastised and wagged his wrinkled finger.

"Ergk!" Liz made a noise and stared at him incredulously. She'd always been taught to respect her elders and take care of them. It was a huge part of their culture back on Earth. On the reservations, they even had specialized 'elder parking' in most parking lots. "That's not what I-"

"Bah, it was a joke. _A joke._ " He cut her off with a dismissive wave.

"But... how?"

"A simple question, indeed. But the answer is best left seen." He tapped his staff on the ground a couple of times and she watched as the old man shrunk. Down down. It was almost disturbing, seeing the slow transformation as he grew ears and a muzzle. Then hair popped out, his body contorting into the shape of... a cat. Scruffy, to be exact.

He was a shapeshifter.

Or, at least that's what she would call it. She wasn't sure if that's what they referred to them as in this world. But they were spoken of in Native American lore. Her culture, in particular, had stories of a man named Wenaboozhoo that shape shifted and was a trickster. A _trickster_.

Liz gritted her teeth and fought the urge to scold the man for the things he must have been doing to her during her stay. Of course, he'd be responsible for the failed traps. Her bow going missing and reappearing atop a tree. Her catches being mysteriously eaten before she could properly prepare them.

Granted, this man likely was not the man from those stories. The man from the stories was the son of a human mother and spirit father. Oddly enough. Not entirely plausible. That and he wasn't supposed to be an elf. Well, that she knew of.

"It all makes sense, now." Her tone was of forced indifference. Flat, as she hid her irritation.

When he changed back, which was equally as disturbing as the last, he appeared almost winded. Tired out.

"Does it, now?" He gripped his staff and began to have a coughing fit. A smoker's cough.

Once she got passed the creepy way he'd probably been watching her these passed weeks, almost a month, he wasn't that bad. Liz couldn't stop staring at his ears, however. The man, Athras as he'd introduced himself as, did not seem to mind her staring at all. Almost like he held some sort of understanding for her situation. Which, he probably knew a lot. She'd babbled a bit too much to her friend Scruffy. A bit more than she'd like.

"Unlike most humans, you hold nature to a higher degree. Why is that?" He asked, almost like the question had been nagging at him for quite some time. His white hair was tied up into a shaggy bun, little pieces dangling along the sides of his face messily.

"I was taught to respect the world and what it provides for us. Without it, we would not be." Liz responded simply, recalling her grandmother's teachings. The one adult in her life that had not thrown her aside or hurt her, but instead gave her knowledge and some semblance of love to look back on. Then, there was a question Liz had as well. "Am I right in assuming that elves and humans do not necessarily get along?"

She only asked because in a lot of the stories back in her world, elves did not get along with humans. Elves, in fact, were often portrayed to be stuck up and seemed to look down on a lot of people who weren't elves. But Liz knew how damaging stereotypes could be. She was, afterall, Native American. She could go on all day about stereotypes and how incorrect they often were.

Athras stared at her with a knowing look in his eye. A look that made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. Like he knew something about her that she didn't want anyone to know. If anything bothered her, it was definitely when people had more information about her than she intended them to.

For the first time in her life, she cursed her tendency to confide in animals.

"Generally speaking, yes. The Dalish and the humans have a strained relationship, at best. The clan I was from, in particular-" He coughed as he continued to walk toward the shack then came to a stop. His bare feet buried in the cool substance that coated the ground. Seemingly unperturbed by that fact, he turned toward Liz and wiped at his mouth, "My clan was on fairly good terms with humans."

Liz felt her expression turn flat as she slowly flicked her gaze around the encampment, then onto him. There were no others. Which meant—which meant his clan was either dead or had abandoned him. He didn't seem the type to up and leave, the way he spoke of the clan with such endearment.

More racism. The humans must have-

The thought made her _sick_.

"No, child. You misunderstand." He snapped her out of her downward spiraling thoughts. He observed her expressions intensely, "The town we were settled outside of was attacked by darkspawn. My clan perished, as a result. My wife and I being the only ones left."

"Apologies. I've just … I've _seen_ what people can do to other people." Liz could feel her eyes dull as she thought back of Earth and all of the countless wars that have occurred. Pointless pointless wars.

"Is this why you have forced yourself to live in such squalor?" Athras motioned with his hands, indicating the state of her 'home'. The shack sat innocently at his right, "Do you fear what they could do to you?"

" _Would_." She corrected, "It is an inevitability, considering what I am." She spoke, referring to the magic.

"You have a rather fatalistic view of humanity for one so young."

"Unfortunately." But how couldn't she? After what she's done?

Things were silent for some time, minutes perhaps. Athras stared down at her in what seemed to be sympathy. Sympathy that made Liz frown. She did not need his pity. Snow started to float around them in fat flakes, landing on the elder's already white locks. His yellow eye was half lidded as if in thought.

"You are but a mageling, there is much you do not know of yourself. I will mentor you in the ways of magic." The Dalish elf concluded, giving a nod. "For I have been testing you all this time, anyhow. I deem you worthy of being my apprentice."

Wait, test?

Liz felt her mouth open and close, like a fish out of water. This definitely was not something she was expecting. "What would have happened if I failed your … test?"

"I would have killed you." He smiled and she could have sworn she saw fangs. Did elves have fangs, too? Or, more like pointed canines.

Liz blinked. What is it with this world and wanting to kill her? First it was her bad luck (which had actually been Athras tricking her), then it was the scraggly man that tried to cut her, her own magic, now this? She sighed and ran her hands through her short hair. "Nothing comes without cost."

"First things first." He tapped his staff into the ground. He spoke in a commanding tone, "Strong body, strong mind. See that wood over there? Get chopping."

Liz wanted to groan. That answered her question about things not coming without a cost. This wasn't going to be easy. Especially since Erin's body was not built for such hard labor. For the fifth time that day, Liz cursed Erin for not training her body. Especially in a world like this one. Why couldn't things just be easy, for a change? She grabbed the axe and weighed it with her hands, a contemplative expression upon her face.

"Tired already, child?"

The young mage turned and faced him, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she could form a question. "What is a darkspawn?"

Athras stared. And stared. And stared. A puff of air left his nose as he let out a sigh.

* * *

What surprised Liz the most, was not only that he was willing to share these stories and information. As the stories were said to be their history. Their education. Receiving such a thing was an honor, in her eyes. But the fact that he also listened to the stories she told him made her happy all the same. Someone to talk to. It'd been far too long.

She spoke of her own history as an Ojibwe, telling him that she was from a far away land called America. He was silent, taking in her stories about how the land was taken from her ancestors and they were forced on reservations. Liz even spoke of the Trail of Tears. The wars fought, past and present. The genocide of her people. It was a rather grim topic that only seemed to spur Athras on as he shared similar experiences the Dalish had gone through.

Days turned into weeks as the two got to know one another. Though Liz seemed to dance just out of reach, keeping much of her personal information to herself. Athras seemed to notice this, but did not push. The young mage, afterall, seemed to have a reason for her behavior. The elf was not one to judge, it seemed.

"This little plant can speed up the healing process? Is it some sort of antibiotic in this world?" Liz asked as she twirled the odd weed between her calloused fingertips. The elf gave her a stern look and she stuttered out a, "H-Hahren?"

He nodded in approval.

"No, it is Elfroot. It is a common ingredient used in healing potions and poultices." When Liz only seemed to give him a confused stare, Athras sighed and elaborated.

The way healing worked in this world was vastly different than her own. And when explained, the elderly mage did not seem like he even believed it at first. Almost like he didn't want to believe that magic didn't exist where she came from or that it took months for people to fully heal from a broken bone. Here, mages could assist with that.

Ever patient was the elderly elf, like teaching a child. Which, technically, he was. Erin's body was still rather young, compared to Liz's actual age. But he did not know that.

Liz was grateful that Athras did not ask why she refused to look into the mirror everyday. Or why she would sometimes stare at her hands with a disturbed look upon her features. The young mage wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to being in someone else's body.

Especially if that person's body is the body of a certain someone's sister. Maxwell, for example.

The young woman cinched the stringer of fish to the side of her small makeshift hut she'd created with branches and furs from her catches over the passed couple months. Spring was already in full swing as the birds chirped in the budding trees. The mud underneath her feet sloshed side to side as she walked back toward the riverbed.

Liz picked up the last of her catch, staring at the odd grey blob that was a fish. It's unblinking eye stared back at her, it's mouth opening and closing as if to gasp for air. The young mage had learned much with the help of Athras. She avoided creating fire with magic, for obvious reasons. Ice spells seemed to fizzle out and didn't seem to work for her. However, storm magic?

The mage seemed to have a penchant for storm magic. The electricity danced across her fingertips, an exercise Athras had drilled into her head. Liz stared at her hand, then at the fish. Then back at her hand. Athras had always been the one to cook the meals, due to her unusual aversion to fire. However... Liz wished to help. Just this once.

Couldn't electricity heat the fish up and cook it?

Something she intended to find out. Liz smirked and put her hand against the fish slowly, watching as it shuddered and shook as it came into contact with the magic. Then came the smell. It wasn't the heavenly smell of Athras' cooking, no. It smelled absolutely putrid.

The fish in her hand began to smoke, before it burst.

That's right, the fish burst.

 _'Pop!'_ Liz's eyes shut in surprise as her face was showered with hot goo. The strong stench of burnt fish permeated the air. The woman let out a gagging noise before cackling was heard behind her.

This was almost as bad as the time she tried to 'fade step'. Which only resulted in her launching herself face first into a tree. That was because she couldn't seem to get the hang of ice magic. No, this was just her stupidity. Plain stupidity.

 _It was worse, wasn't it?_ She thought to herself, trying to ignore the annoying cackles of the elderly mage behind her. Liz wiped away at the fish guts and scales that seemed to now be embedded into her short brown locks.

"Bleh." She spit and wiped at her mouth, tasting the disgusting result of her mishap.

"N-Now now, thi-this is a good lesson. Is it not?"

"Magic is not for cooking?" Liz deadpanned, now able to open her eyes and look at the grisly scene. The fish, or rather what was left of it, was scattered everywhere in the grass. The river sloshed and trickled nearby, drowning out much of the songs the birds were singing that morning.

"Ah, but quite the contrary. Magic has many uses, I have yet to teach them to you." Athras informed, and when Liz turned to look at him he had that stupid grin on his face.

* * *

Dreams. Her dreams haunted her every night. Someone would whisper into her ear. Or sometimes during the day she could hear it. Taunting, tugging trailing at her back. Whatever it was made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

But at this moment, Liz stood in the hazy green fog. The air smelled of sulfur and she could have sworn she felt something watching her. Where was she? What was this place? Was this …. was this what Athras had warned her about? The Fade?

The young mage wandered for maybe hours. "I know you can hear me..."

Liz ignored the voice as she continued forth, searching for an exit. But only found a river with a waterfall of black sludge. The rocks floated in the air, out into the vast emptiness. And in the distance... she could see what looked to be a fortress of some sort. A fortress or maybe...a city? Liz squinted.

Something in her gut told her that she was in the wrong neighborhood.

 _Motherfu-_

"Always here …. watching …. waiting." The voice sounded like it was above her, it's breath causing her hair to shift. Liz froze. "I'll find something, somewhere. You'll be mine."

The young mage ignored the way her body shuddered and shook, screaming at her to flee. Liz refused to look at it as she forced out a sardonic laugh. "Unlikely. I have no one you can use against me, demon." She took a shaky breath, "Not anymore."

That's what it was. Demon. Wasn't it?

Claws dug into her shoulder, making the bones in her arm crunch. She could have sworn her shoulder popped out of place. Liz let out a screech of agony as the thing bellowed in rage. It's offers of power even up until then completely useless. Nothing seemed to work on this young mageling.

Then it broke. The vision shattered like glass, only to be replaced by... white? Liz blinked. Then blinked again, seeing blue skies come into view. Puffy white clouds lazily floated by, the sun warmed her face. Then a stick? Athras was standing above her with his staff pointed at her neck, a serious expression upon his features.

"You were lost in the Fade." He answered her silent question. Liz tried to move but her body felt like it was on fire. She hissed and squeezed her eyes shut. "I told you not to force yourself too far. Drain yourself too much, you die. Or worse, get lost in the Fade and get possessed by a demon."

"I take it I wasn't supposed to come back as me." Liz stated matter of factly. Athras stared down at her oddly, almost disbelievingly. She'd been practicing her storm magic on some metal rods that stuck out of the ground. Learning how to control it and use chain lightning. Obviously it proved to be too much for Erin's frail body.

"Stuck in the Fade, fighting off demons with only your strength of will to keep them at bay. A difficult task for a fledgling mage." He explained, still looking down at her. Though now the elf's staff was lowered at his side. "But ah, you have proven yourself more than worthy. Such tasks are childs play, to you."

"You speak as though I already know of magic. You suspect me of deceiving you?" She asked, though she felt she knew the answer. Liz noticed the odd looks the elderly man sometimes gave her when she knew more than a young woman Erin's age should know. She was, quite obviously, not a teenager. Athras sensed that, she knew.

"A passing thought, yes. But your mistakes are genuine." He sounded almost confused, "A fast learner, more like. You are very intelligent for one so young. Why is that, I wonder?"

There was that knowing look. Liz felt her expression turn sour. She refused to tell him the full truth. He wasn't ready. No one in this world would be ready for that. So she answered simply. Not a lie, but not the complete truth.

"Because I have to be."

* * *

 _Liz was walking through her apartment. For a moment, she felt as though she were back on Earth again. Though a part of her knew that this was just a re-creation. A memory. The young woman padded across the messy living room and paused, hearing cackling on the other side of the door. She felt something inside of her clench at the familiarity._

 _Hesitantly, the mage opened the door and revealed the owner of said cackle. Her sister. She couldn't help the small smile that graced her features as she stared down at the young girl._

 _Elise was sitting in front of her console, fingers tapping away at the controller. Her long black hair was tied up in a messy bun of sorts, baggy clothing draping over her small frame. The girl sat cross-legged on the floor, staring up at her television. Soda cans lined the entertainment stand, denoting just how long she'd been binging the game before her._

 _Her sister always did have a thing for dwarven characters, Liz noticed. Her character ran in a circle around another dwarf, Elise grinned at the TV._

" _We're a club. We're a group." She spoke at the screen excitedly, as if they could hear her, "We're a secret society where no one can join unless they—"_

" _Stand on their knees?" Liz interjected from the doorway, her tone flat._

" _Wear funny hats." Elise continued, but paused and turned around. Her lip was stuck out in a pout as she retorted, mouth moving but no sound. The words were lost. As if forgotten in her memory. Then the scene slowly began to melt away, the sound of crying echoing within._

 _Then Liz was standing in the front door, ushering her younger sister in and applying pressure to a stab wound on her side. Liz was yelling, tears clouding her vision. But she didn't remember what she was even yelling at her sister. Probably something about her being stupid, for sure._

 _Elise, for the most part, remained quiet as she allowed Liz to treat her wound. Almost as if it were a norm._

 _Elise, ever the trouble maker. Elise, her thickheaded little sister. Brash, uncaring of the consequences of her actions. She did what she thought was 'fun' at the time._

 _Behavior that always worried Liz. But it was just her. The way she was._

'I miss you, little sister.'

* * *

Next chapter! The Breach. Also, I figured she would need some sort of guidance in order to properly control her magic. So, therefore she now has a mentor!


	8. The Breach

" _The Breach"_

It had been months under Athras' tutelage until she was even allowed near a town. The elderly mage, unfortunately, had seen her mishap in the woods. The explosion she'd caused. It'd been a concern he was intent on addressing, which was apparently why he revealed himself so early.

But once she was able to control herself, to an extent, he was sure to make her do the runs for materials as much as possible. Which led Liz to believe he was simply being lazy. But she didn't complain. She was an introvert by nature, but she hadn't realized how much she craved being around other people.

Athras even entrusted her with his weird blue elk/moose thing that he called Rin. Or, rather, asked Rin to watch over Liz. The fact that the thing even seemed to nod it's head put the woman on edge. The animals in this world were certainly odd.

Liz's confused expression when he handed her a sack of coin was rather amusing. Athras didn't even flinch when he pulled out the difference pieces and explained what each one was and how much it represented. The white haired mage had gotten used to her questions, blaming it on her sheltered life from before. Even though Liz knew that he was curious about her past and where she came from, he never seemed to ask. Never pushed. Even when she gave him minimal details when explaining her home life.

Travel seemed to be a usual for Dalish elves, being the nomadic people they were. Which didn't surprise her, at all. In fact, she almost expected it. What with all of the similarities between their culture and her own. Not the same, obviously. But enough to give her a sense of familiarity.

So after the weather calmed down and the worst of winter passed, she was shown how to pack up and move on. Rin, she still didn't know where he hid the moose thing in the first place, seemed happy to oblige and tote the stuff around in a cart that he had stored away without much of a fuss.

Rin, for the most part, seemed to dislike Liz. Her first encounter with the beast was not the best. Though after a few months she seemed to simply tolerate the young woman. She had a feeling that was probably because Athras had scolded the beast for knocking Liz into the freezing wintery water. Which could have, no doubt, killed the small girl.

This led her to her current circumstance. She was kneeling before a girl, a grim look on Liz's face as she stared down at her.

"Miss…?" A watery voice from behind her, probably her mother.

The curtains were pulled in the aged shack. The floorboards creaked with every step, but it was a home to them. The fireplace in the back was lit, allowing warm light to wash across the girl's face as she lay in the worn cot. Motionless. The young mage sighed quietly and put away some of the equipment she'd brought.

Having someone die under her care was not a new concept. In fact, a lot of people died all of the time inside of the ambulance. Even so, it still felt as if a piece of her was taken away everytime it happened. Liz stared down at the still body of the young girl, blankets pulled against her chest. It looked as though she were sound asleep, peaceful.

 _'I could have done better. I'm sorry.'_ Liz thought to herself, before shaking her head minutely. No. That kind of thinking got her nowhere. She did the best she could.

Liz turned toward the crying woman and bowed her head silently.

Athras had taught her how to concentrate and control her abilities, sure. But she was also his apprentice. He was, afterall, a rather skilled mage. A healer, at that.

"Thank you for coming..." The man at the woman's side murmured, trying to hide his sadness. Athras had sent her over in his stead attempt to save the young girl, after getting a message via bird. He was, obviously, popular around these parts.

"Her passing was painless, I assure you." Liz reassured, getting a nod out of the man. She stood up and brushed her furs off before making her way toward the exit of the hut.

She'd learned her magic can stop a little bit of bleeding and heal small cuts and bruises. But that was all she was even capable of. What she excelled in, however, was her already known skills from Earth. So she honed her knowledge with the help of the elder, as much as she could.

It was just a normal day out in town. Days like this had become a norm this passed month. Him deeming her worthy of being around civilization without fear of her abilities surfacing and hurting others. Don't get her wrong, though. There were … incidents. Ones that she'd rather not think about.

Something in Liz's chest clenched, once again. But she pushed it away. She had work to do.

The young mage was quiet as she took the slushy path out of the small town. People didn't even look in her direction, as she'd been disguising herself as a hunter. Furs and leathers, a bow and quiver. For small acts of magic, using a staff was unnecessary anyway. Besides, she had the brass dagger she'd liberated off of that young man all that time ago.

What's the worst that could happen?

It was then that things turned sideways, a flash of green light enveloping the town. Liz let out a squeak and shielded her eyes, curling into a ball as the echoing screams of people surrounded her. Confusion rang through her.

"What—" The young mage was cut off as a wave of force hit her small body, sending her careening into the snow. That time she didn't squeak. She screamed. Fight or flight kicked in as her body flopped around, trying to find purchase on the fluff beneath her.

One second there was screaming from villagers around her, children crying. Then it all got drowned out-

' _ **Boom!'**_

Liz's ears rang. That's all she could hear. She could have sworn she heard the shattering of glass from beside her.

Her theory was thus proven as bits of glass rained down on her shoulders and hair. Her eyes snapped up, trying to figure out what it was and how far she'd need to run. How quick.

Did a meteor hit? She knew, from videos back in her home world, that meteors would often cause that kind of shockwave. She'd seen trees near it get nearly flattened from impact.

But that wasn't it.

Her brown eyes dilated as she focused in on the ominous glow in the sky. The wind picked up around her, sending her short locks whipping into her face. Her face, which expressed complete and utter horror.

"B..but..." Her voice sounded muffled, even to her. But her eyes, could they be deceiving her? She shrieked and scrambled up, taking off in the opposite direction. Feet dug into the show frantically, leaving the screaming behind. She ducked and weaved through trees and underbrush.

No.

Nonono. This couldn't be happening. Bombs didn't exist in this world, did they? They couldn't! Impossible!

The only thing that flew through her mind in that moment was, _'Bomb, bomb. It's a bomb. Run run.'_

And by the time she was a fair distance from the village, her lungs burning from overexertion. Only then did she think to herself, if it were a bomb wouldn't she be dead? With how close it looked, the aftershock should have done more than simply knock her over and kill her hearing. Which, by the way, had returned during her scramble to safety.

It wasn't a bomb.

Then what could it be?

The young mage took in lungfuls of air, hands on her knees as she peered up through her messy hair. Her eyes remained fixated on the giant glowing line that seemed to shoot into the sky. It looked almost like a tornado of energy. Liz had no other way of describing it. On top of the fact that the green glow seemed to make something in her stomach churn.

It felt…. Familiar. She could feel it from where she was standing, despite how far away she knew she was.

* * *

It didn't take her long to realize that the explosion (it had been an explosion, right?) had taken place in the direction of where the Conclave was going to be held. Liz only knew that because not even a week prior, she'd been talking to Maxwell about it. He was being sent out there.

This prompted her to search the nearby villages and settlements for any survivors. There were many injured people, but it was nothing compared to the apparent damage it'd done. The deaths it'd caused. No one knew what it was or why it happened.

Gathering information wasn't her strong suit. Any kind of human interaction was far beyond anything she could do, as a matter of fact. So she stuck to sitting on branches near groups of people as a crow.

It'd taken her many months, to perfect this form. Athras had schooled her in the ways of shapeshifting.

Liz ruffled her black feathers upon remembering the first time she actually tried to shift. She'd been looking at a bird, trying to concentrate on how it looked and acted. But in the midst of her concentration, she'd had a random thought about Athras' cat form.

This didn't end well, as she'd inevitably transformed into some sick twisted version of a crow and cat. It was incredibly painful.

She chirped and stretched her wings, deciding that waiting two days for the information she needed was too much. She needed to actually go into the fray. Liz hopped forth, tossing her small body off the branch and spreading her wings. The mage took to the skies, feeling the crisp air whip through her feathers as she made her way toward the big glowing hole in the sky.

An ache settled in her chest as she made her way there. The very thought of losing Maxwell seemed to unsettle her, in some way. Even though she didn't know him much, though she should, part of her felt the distress and utter fear at the possibility of his death.

Maxwell, she knew, was probably dead. The people at the Conclave were dead. Why would he be any different?

The young man hadn't even answered her attempts with the Sending Stone.

As Liz neared the tear in the sky, she peered around with her superior sight as a crow. She could have sworn she saw smaller tears down below, but opted for ignoring them in favor of getting closer to her destination. But she saw what was coming out of them. What lurked around them.

Demons, she presumed. Tall spindly ones that stalked around it, hunched over and looking for it's next victim. The woman didn't even want to investigate or draw attention to herself, so she continued onward.

The rock in her stomach only seemed to get heavier as she came up over the hill and outcropping of trees to see the ruins of the Temple. Her wings locked up as she froze at the sight, her body gliding lower as she got closer.

There…. There was absolutely no way anyone could have survived that.

No way whatsoever.

Her heart beat against her chest as she finally regained control of her body. She saw the charred remnants of the people. Some crouched low, shielding their heads. Their eyes. Some were curled up on the ground.

' _No...'_ She tried to say, _'Not again. No.'_

Maxwell had been Erin's brother, hadn't he? Erin's brother was dead.

Dead.

She stayed a safe distance away as she circled the site, the green tornado of energy shooting into the ground below. Now that she was closer, it felt even more ominous. Something else in her stomach was telling her how wrong this was. How it wasn't supposed to be. This… this shouldn't even be happening.

Liz paid no heed to the small unit of soldiers that seemed to circle the tear below. She'd seen many people fighting on her way there, but it was futile. What could they do against demons? Athras told her of a time a demon possessed a mage and he almost decimated his village. There had been reports of worse. Demons were not to be trifled with.

Demons that still, even to this day, whispered promises and words into her ear. Demons that appeared in her dreams, trying to tempt her away and control her. She would not give in, though. Never. The thought of becoming an abomination and killing innocent people terrified her.

Her thoughts were violently interrupted when the tear in the sky rippled. The air around her seemed to wobble, causing her small body to fall. Her ears popped and she was sent careening toward the ground.

Liz flapped her wings, but it was in vain. It felt like her body was getting heavier. But it wasn't until she hit the snow and was sent flopping that she realized that she'd been forced into her human form.

"Here it comes!" A woman's voice called through the trees. Liz spit out snow and groaned from her spot on the ground. "Archers!"

She heard the distinct flip and whizzing of arrows, followed by a demonic growl.

By the sounds of it, it was close. Unluckily for her, she'd crash landed right near a battle. It didn't surprise her that she wasn't able to retain her crow form for that long, as she was still getting the hang of it. At least this time it had only been a force transform back into her humanoid form. It could have been worse.

Liz wanted to let out another groan, but bit the inside of her cheek to keep silent.

"Son of a …" The young mage hissed silently as she sat up, feeling her limbs for any breaks. She'd been just above the trees, how was she not dead? She could have very well landed on her neck or fractured her spinal cord.

Through the sounds of whizzing arrows and ripping of flesh, likely from melee weapons, Liz found her way into a seated position. Just when her thoughts were beginning to turn sour at the situation, that Erin's brother was likely dead and her actions were in vain. A voice called out from the trees.

An enraged yell, to be exact. The sound itself caused the young mage's eyes to widen. Recognition gripped her insides. Was it…?

A memory of her first encounter in that world bubbled forth. She remembered when Maxwell had tackled the man trying to grab her. He had tried to protect her. The woman stood up and hobbled her way into the treeline, careful to be quiet. The last thing she needed was one of those… demons attacking her.

Close quarters was not one of her specialties.

The brunette huffed as she peered over the edge and through the rubble of the temple. In the middle of it all, the whirling vortex of green energy shot into the sky. It danced ominously, setting the surrounding area in an angry greenish glow. The color itself gave the young mage anxiety, as it reminded her of her less than pleasant dreams.

Then she saw the source of the voice.

Liz _knew_ it was him. The way he fought felt familiar to her, the sight a relief. The young woman pulled out her bow and aimed it at the large creature he was fighting against. The young Trevelyan swiped at it's feet with his sword, only to immediately hold up his shield to block an incoming attack from a spindly looking demon at his right.

The green demon screeched and went in for another swipe, only to be cleaved in half by a sword from behind it. A woman with short hair and a pissed off look on her face turned, her eyes fixated on the spiky giant of a demon in front of them.

From the looks of it, a small unit had accompanied them. Archers lined the rubble and fired at the tall creature. It had to have been close to 15 feet tall. It let out a deep chuckle and held it's clawed hands out, lightning dancing between it's fingertips. Similar to what Liz did when she was practicing her control of electricity.

Then the large demon smiled, it's razor sharp teeth gleaming in the light as it whipped it's arm to the side. This sent a shower of sparks,

' _ **Thwap!'**_

A whip formed out of pure electric energy. The demon sent it toward the small group of people at it's feet, sending a couple of them flying back. Liz had to wince as she saw a spurt of blood from one of the soldiers as he hit the ground a small distance away.

She didn't have to focus to realize he'd been severed in half.

The young mage had been in this world for a short time, but she didn't think she'd ever get used to the amount of death that seemed to come with living here.

Liz let her arrow fly into the battlefield, ignoring the yells from a man below. Probably a commanding officer. The young woman assisted the archers the best she could throughout the battle. Thankfully the frontliners below took most of the damage. None of the demons could even make their way up toward the ones above.

Just as she was about to run out of arrows, the large demon fell to it's knees with a rumble. A rumble that made the small woman stagger. Maxwell's hand shot out with purpose, fingers splayed toward the breach in the sky. A green rope of energy connected between the two, causing the air around them to pulsate and crackle. Liz felt her ears twitch at the disturbance.

It was like one of those horrifying moments where she just… couldn't take her eyes off of it.

What was he doing? What was going on? The last time she checked, Maxwell hadn't been a mage. Because he would have been in the same situation as she had been. Stuck in a Circle Tower somewhere.

Even from where she was standing, she could see the pain flaring on his features as his arm shook. Then he pulled his hand back, like yanking thread. The tornado of energy snapped shut, before stabilizing.

"What..." What had she just witnessed?

Cheers could be heard from the men and women around her. But her gaze was fixated on her brother—Maxwell. No. He was not her brother. Technically. He collapsed, body going completely limp in the dirty snow below.

"Maxwell!" Liz called, not even thinking as she hopped over the debilitated railing and onto the rubble covered ground below. She stumbled as he sprinted in the direction of her fallen brother. "Max!"

"Who—who are you? State your business!"

She ignored the woman's voice in favor of checking the elder Trevelyan's vitals. Her hands moving with purpose, familiarity. Only to have her body yanked back as a group of medics crowded Maxwell.

"What are you doing here?" A woman demanded, hand firmly grasping the young mage's shoulder. Liz snapped her eyes in her direction and glared.

"Don't touch me." She yanked her shoulder away from the woman. She opened her mouth to speak, expression shifting to a snarl—

"What will you do with him now, Seeker?" A dwarf asked from behind her, causing her to turn her attention to him.

"That is something we will discuss upon our return to Haven, dwarf." She motioned toward a small group of scouts, " _You_ , keep an eye on this girl."

* * *

She followed the group back. She assumed it was back toward this town they spoke of, Haven. A couple of scouts flanked her, not once allowing her out of their sights. As they traveled further and further away from the carnage, the snow from the darkened clouds above seemed to pick up. The huge snowflakes accumulated atop armor and hair. She stared up at the sky, almost entranced by the way they fluttered down and landed on her furs. Her hair. Her eyelashes. It wasn't long until she was approached by a blonde man in shiny armor. He coughed, getting Liz's attention.

She turned her gaze off of the sky and examined this man. Curiosity seemed to shine in his honey colored eyes, an eyebrow raised. A thin coat of the white substance seemed to have collected atop the fur draped over his pauldrons.

"Although I commend your bravery for assisting us in battle, why were you all the way out here?" The man spoke. The commanding officer, she recognized.

"I was … searching for my brother." She spoke, carefully scanning her surroundings. A habit she'd developed since her arrival. "I knew he was at the Conclave. I knew he was probably dead. But I needed to see it for myself."

The blonde Commander nodded, as if understanding.

Liz continued to follow the group of soldiers and scouts. Who all seemed to take orders from the loud woman and the blonde man with a fluffy pelt on his shoulders. Seeker Cassandra and Commander Cullen, as she'd come to put a name on them.

Cassandra seemed suspicious of Liz's intentions and thus kept her under watchful eye during their trek. The Commander had other things to do, but had seemed concerned with Maxwell's welfare at least. So Liz appreciated that.

Her feet crunched through the thin layer of crust atop the snow, puffs of air floated in front of her face as they came down a hill and toward a walled off town. Maxwell, among many others, was being transported via makeshift stretcher. The town was surrounded by a wall, made of rather large wooden stakes. The arched stone entrance towered above, dwarfing the otherworlder. It made her feel smaller than she was. As they arrived, many of the wounded were taken into medical tents outside. Orders were being called and people were rushing about, giving space when needed.

Not knowing what else to do, the young mage tried to follow the men that carried Max. The small group was carrying his stretcher into a small hut, of sorts. Occasionally he would cringe and let out a grunt, sweat forming on his brow. The young man looked a little worse for the wear.

The young mage fidgeted and tried to walk through the door, but was stopped. The Seeker held out her arm and shook her head, "They do not need any distractions."

Liz knew this. Liz was, afterall, a healer herself. Athras had taught her much. Not to mention the valuable knowledge she had from her home world. The woman opened her mouth to object but was promptly glared at by the warrior.

"I can offer assistance." She prodded as the door shut, leaving the two outside in the cold. Soldiers and scouts were milling about, talking about their success. Despite the death and injuries caused, they were happy.

"Follow me." Was her curt answer, brown eyes boring down into Liz's. The two stared at one another, both with frowns marring their faces. The Seeker was much taller than Liz, which made it seem almost comical. The mage crossed her arms.

"Why? I would be of more use in there, helping … my brother." Liz hesitated, almost unsure of whether or not to call him as such. Cassandra seemed to pick up on this. She squinted down at the young woman in suspicion.

"We do not know if what you say is true. You're going to have to come with me, I have a few questions. And if your story proves to be true, I will tell you what is wrong with your _brother_."

Liz knew that they were just being cautious, but it still irritated her. With a hesitant nod, she followed the tall woman as she led her deeper into the town. They passed some tents and came up upon a large building. A church of some sort, she assumed. Or, what did they call them here? She was sure she knew, but couldn't seem to place the word for the life of her.

The large wooden door was opened and as soon as they entered, the cool wind was gone. The temperature was much better inside of the building, that was for sure. A worn carpet was laid out in the large entrance, which was literally just a long hallway with doors and pillars on each end. Cassandra lead her toward the back, before she took a left and walked into a room.

Liz couldn't help but notice the people leaving as they entered. They nodded at the Seeker but paid Liz no mind as they exited. Book shelves lined the walls of the room and in the center sat a desk, filled with papers and more books. Behind the desk, a woman. She was engrossed in her work when Cassandra spoke up.

"Were you able to dig up any information on Maxwell, Josephine?" The warrior's voice seemed to knock the woman out of her thoughts as she blinked and looked up at the two in the doorway. Her big brown eyes locked on Liz for a moment before answering Cassandra.

"Oh! Yes, of course. It seems that what Maxwell has said is, indeed, true. The Trevelyans maintain a relationship with my family, so it was not difficult to inquire about some information on his family." The woman nodded. Her accent seemed oddly familiar, though Liz couldn't put her finger on it. Josephine brushed a strand of her wavy black hair out of her face, "If you'd like, you can take a look at my findings in this briefing."

From the sounds of these people, they all had different kinds of accents. Most of which she couldn't really place. Liz was from a remote area back on Earth, afterall. Not that it would have mattered in this world. Places like Europe or America didn't even exist here.

The Seeker took the paper and glanced through it. It took a few moments. Liz stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to do. It seemed even Josephine didn't know what to say, as she kept peering in her direction but made no move to talk. Cassandra looked up from the paper and inspected Liz.

"It says here that his sister is a mage." Her tone sounded guarded, "And that she was sent off to a Circle Tower in Orlais during one of their vacations. She was supposed to be transferred to the Free Marches, but was not heard from since then."

Wasn't she supposed to go to Ferelden? Or, perhaps Ferelden was in the route to the Free Marches. Liz hadn't gotten to study the maps extensively, so she wasn't entirely sure.

Liz swallowed nervously, hoping to whatever deity watched over this world that they didn't have information from Orlais about her stay there. They were two separate countries, she knew. So hopefully they didn't know about her escape and … murders.

"Yes." Was all that Liz could say, unsure of how much information to release. She could lie, but then she had a feeling that the Seeker would likely run her in circles and find out the truth anyway. The young mage fidgeted even more, her small calloused hands playing with the ends of her long lock of hair. "I am certain it gives a physical descriptor, no? I am who I say I am. Once Maxwell wakes up-"

"You escaped, didn't you." It was a statement that made her stomach drop. The Seeker's expression turned sour as she handed the papers back to the woman behind the desk.

"I-I ah..." Liz was at a loss of words. She spent so much time avoiding people and civilization, only to be caught because of some sense of duty. Of this attachment she felt for a man she shouldn't even really know.

This had been a mistake.

The Seeker looked behind Liz and motioned toward her small frame, "Cuff her."

"I didn't come here with ill-will." Liz snapped, flinching away from the armored men as they walked toward her. "I don't want to hurt anyone!"

"You are an escaped Circle Mage." Seemed to be the only thing that needed to be said. "For the time being, you are to be detained until we figure out what to do with you."

"I don't want to go back. I'm not going back."

"That is not for you to say."

"You can't—you won't! I-" Liz wriggled around, but felt the familiar sensation of the suppressing cuffs as they were slapped on her wrists. "Please don't do this. I just want to help my brother. I didn't come here to hurt anyone!"

Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears as she was pulled away and out of the office. She did, however, note the saddened look in Josephine's eyes.

She wouldn't look sad if she knew how she escaped and what she did. The memories of the time in the White Spire's library filtered forth, reminding her of why mages were looked at the way they were in this world. The memory itself seemed to sap away any strength she had to fight back or run away as she was lead down some stairs and into the darkness that she knew was a dungeon.

A familiar smell met her nose as the damp stone glinted with the torchlight, revealing a room full of cells. No windows. No light. The lone torch near the door was hardly enough as she stumbled into a cell. The metal door creaked shut with a _**'click!'**_ before she was left alone.

Again.

This had been a mistake. She didn't even know why she felt such a strong impulse to make sure Maxwell was safe. He was Erin's brother, but he wasn't hers. She wasn't Erin. She was just an imposter. Someone with her face, her body, her name. But she was most certainly not Erin where it counted.

Liz sat on the bedroll and buried her face in her knees, curling into herself.

"I shouldn't have come here…" She said to herself, voice bouncing off of the walls of the empty room.

* * *

The young woman was down there for days, maybe. Or maybe it'd simply been hours. It certainly felt like a couple of days. It was hard to tell with how dark it was.

It was very hard to find people in this world that didn't have some level of distrust for mages (Though she couldn't blame them). Elves, too. Double so for the elf mages. She shook her head as she stared off into the darkness of the dungeon.

The only time they made an exception, she came to know, was when the mage was a healer. Although, even then, they weren't treated much differently. Better than regular mages, sure. But still the same.

Eventually they'd come down there to get her. She simply thought it was the routine meal of bread and water, but when the man in armor didn't have a tray she tilted her head.

"You're going to come with me." He stated in a gruff tone from underneath his helmet. Liz nodded and stood up, knees wobbling. The cuffs were itchy on her wrists as she was led out of the cell and back through the hallway. The light pierced into her eyes as she exited the building.

The woman was taken through the small town. Were they going to let her go? Were there templars waiting for her at the entrance? She was going to go back to the Circle Tower, wasn't she?

The thought itself made her stomach turn. She would do whatever was in her power to escape, she knew.

But when she was led through the gate, she saw the familiar form of Erin's brother. Maxwell Trevelyan. It looked as though he had been conversing with the Commander, only to pause when the blonde motioned in Liz's direction. Max turned, his eyes lighting up with happiness.

The elder Trevelyan was short, as well. Short for a man, that is. He jogged over in his full plate, metal clinking. Liz opened her mouth to greet him, but was instead pulled into a bear hug. The young mage froze and felt her feet as they were lifted off of the ground.

Normally, hugs seemed to deter her. But this hug felt different, aside from the fact that she was pressed against hard metal. That didn't seem to matter, though. It made her feel safe.

"I thought I'd never see you again." He spoke as he squeezed her tighter.

Warmth enveloped her chest, causing her to tear up. This. She needed this. Something inside of her seemed to crack, forcing her to hold back tears. The hug reminded her of how she felt when Elise would hug her. The same feeling. Comfort. Home.

Erin's feelings toward her brother were the same as Liz's feelings toward her sister. Erin and Liz had that in common, at least.

"I thought you were dead." Was the only thing she could say into his chestpiece.

They sat there for what felt like minutes, before Maxwell began to shake. Liz, having now gotten a hold of her emotions, put her hands against his chest and tried to pull away.

"You're…. you're kind of squishing me." She informed, trying not to make things awkward.

"S-S-Sorry. Sorry." He pulled away, only to have his hands go to his face. He wiped away the tears that had been falling down his cheeks. "C-Can someone take those cuffs off of her, please."

Liz couldn't help but notice the Commander was pointedly looking away. Cassandra, who had been standing near a training dummy, had a small smile on her face. It was barely there, but she saw it. Only for it to disappear once she realized Liz was staring. The otherworlder sighed as the guard that escorted her unlocked the cuffs. She rubbed her wrists idly as she peered back over at her brother.

Maxwell pulled his hands away from his face and stared down at Liz, only to fall into another fit of sobs. He placed his hand on top of her head and gave it a little ruffle, "I-I'm glad you're alright. I'm glad you're okay."

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that? I thought you died! Everyone at the Conclave..." Liz stopped herself there and huffed.

"Hey, give me a break alright? I haven't seen my little sibling in months and this is the reunion I get?" He crossed his arms and looked down at her, eyes squinting. It was then that Liz realized she was also crossing her arms and squinting at him. He wasn't mad, she knew. He was mocking her. How dare he!

Their reunion was interrupted when they heard yelling in the distance.

"Who is that? It is not one of ours." Cassandra informed from her place beside the siblings. Liz looked in the direction of the bridge, only to see two forms making their way down the path.

"Didja see what that fuckin' thing did? We would be dead if it wasn't fer me!"

"B-B-But..."

"No, listen." The shorter woman, who was a dwarf from the looks of it, was cut off when Cassandra approached the two.

"Are you refugees?"

"There are demons falling from the sky!" The dwarf shrieked, "I had to impale a couple but they kept appearin' outta nowhere!"

"J-Jade please..." The elf at her side spoke softly, her hands held up as if to console her. The elf's eyes were a pale grey, her silver hair fell passed her shoulders and framed her tattooed face. Or, rather, a Mythal vallaslin if she remembered correctly. Out of all of the time spent in this world, Liz didn't even know it was possible for elves to be chubby. But this one proved that theory wrong. "I'm sorry, but… we kind of need a place to sleep and..."

"Yeah!" Jade pulled something out of her backpack, as if she'd been waiting for this moment, and held out a spindly arm for all to see. "I even have dinner, want some?"

Liz's gaze flicked between the two groups. The chubby elf looked mortified at Jade's offering. Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose and didn't seem to even know what to say. Maxwell? Well, Max seemed to have a good pokerface. A blank look and a forced smile.

Because this … Jade was holding a demon's arm out and calling it dinner.

"Who…. Who are you again?"

"S-Serana. Serana Lavellan, Ma'am." She bowed, hands folded in front of her. She seemed to turn pink under the attention. Even some of the soldiers that had been training had stopped to peek at the commotion.

"Yeah!" The dwarf grinned, "The Conclave blew up! Did you see that shit? I was there but-"

"J-Jade..."

"You were there?" Cassandra sounded almost accusatory as she took a threatening step forward. The dwarf looked unfazed and Serana got flustered.

"No! N-No, we were supposed to be but-" The elf's face turns red, out of embarrassment. "Oh no... Mamae is going to be so angry with me. Nnnooo." Her voice trailed off as she covered her face.

"We got a little distracted." The dwarf finished. Serana peeked up from her hands, her bright grey eyes locking with the dwarf's green ones. The dwarf, for the most part, seemed unperturbed. The two stared at one another for a few moments before she sighed, "Alright alright. I got drunk. Miss Lavellan kept me from fighting the innkeeper."

Cassandra stared down at the dwarf in disbelief while Maxwell appeared as though he didn't know how to react. Though Liz could have sworn she saw his eyebrow twitch.

"Oh, right. I'm Jade, by the way. Jade Cadash! At your service, my Herald. I have heard a many of things about you on my way here. Some good. Some bad. Mostly good, but let us forget I just said that. They were all good things, I assure you."

She was loud _and_ a bad liar.

The silence seemed to drag on as the group stared at one another. Liz finally spoke, breaking the awkward silence. "I'll be in the healer's tents if you need me."

She gave Maxwell a nod and retreated from the scene.

* * *

Liz knew already that her time in Haven would be hard. Just being around people was hard. At least, for her. The woman much preferred the silence of the shack with Athras and found herself feeling almost homesick. Her time spent there tugging at her mind as she cleaned up the apothecary's hut.

The apothecary, Adan, was a rather grumpy old man. Grumpy old men were not a new occurrence for this young woman. Even so, he seemed less than pleased when he returned, only to find a strange woman treating _his_ patients.

This left the two at odds for a few days. But evidently the chubby elven woman, Serana, was able to act as some sort of buffer between the two. Liz had always been taught to respect her elders, but it was getting difficult with this particular man.

"It's about time I get some help around here." Adan griped as he grabbed a poultice from one of the shelves. One that Liz knew was used almost like some sort of antibiotic on steroids. Even with Athras' help, she didn't understand much of how things worked. She couldn't set aside her pride enough to ask questions.

The young woman simply sighed at his obvious jab. He kept her under immense scrutiny since her arrival. She knew, however, that it was not because she was a mage. As the elf was also a mage. A Dalish one, at that. Serana skittered between the two, as if to block their vision.

"T-Thank you, I just want to help in whatever way I can." Her voice was soft, stuttery. "Mamae taught me much. I-I could even show you some things, if you'd like."

Liz blinked as she set a book on the, now dust-free, shelf. She looked over at the elf curiously, "I thought Dalish teachings were restricted to only the Dalish."

That's what Athras had said, anyway. Granted, he taught her many things because of her apprentice status. But even she was not allowed to know certain things. Which she understood. The same thing happened with her own culture.

"W-Well. Yes..." Serana fidgeted, her fingers picking at her nails. Her pale grey gaze was locked on the floor. Adan grunted from his position on the other side of the hut and went back to his work. His dismissive behavior caused the elf to look almost disheartened. Liz, for the first time in a long _long_ time, felt bad.

Liz let out a short breath of air out of her nose.

"I would be interested, if you would not mind teaching me." She turned around and went back to putting the books away. She did, however, notice the way the elf's eyes seemed to brighten at the prospect. At the idea that someone was interested in her teachings. Her culture, perhaps.

The young woman figured she needed a refresher course. Athras would be rather disappointed if she forgot, anyhow.

The three made a good team, despite the dynamics. The otherworlder shared a small house with Maxwell near the gate. Another bed had been put in there to accommodate. But to say she was entirely accepted by his little entourage would be a lie. Cassandra was still wary about Liz. There was also a beautiful redheaded woman with a hood that seemed to size her up everytime she was around. Almost like she was trying to pick her apart from the seams.

She had yet to get approached, though. She assumed this was because of Maxwell's protective behavior.

They needed the young man's cooperation, afterall. Especially since the thing on his hand seemed to be the only way they could close the tears in the air. Which she'd come to learn were called rifts. Green tears that seemed to emit some sort of aura. Something that, to her, made her feel unnerved.

They dragged Maxwell around, she noticed. _'Maxwell, do this. Maxwell do that.'_

It was unending. He was off sauntering around in the wilderness and trying to stop wars. Gathering allies. One of said allies being with a Grey Warden. Which, as she'd learned, were the people that fought against the darkspawn during the Blights.

He was doing all of this and he was barely hitting his twenties. He was still young. Younger than her, that is. Erin's body may have been barely 18, but mentally Liz was probably a couple years his elder.

They were both too young for this, she realized.

He was supposed to return that day, having been out in the Storm Coast for almost a week. Liz busied herself, intent on talking to the man and letting him know she was going to leave.

' _Don't get me wrong, staying here was nice. But I am needed elsewhere.'_ Liz's hands paused as she was wrapping a man's arm. He lay on a cot, unconscious. _'No...no. That sounds almost like a lie.'_

The young woman glared intensely at the man in front of her, deep in thought. Besides that, she had to search for that damned beast. Rin. They'd been separated during the explosion. She, too, probably wished to return to Athras at some point.

"Doesn't the blood scare you?" A voice startled her out of her musings, causing her to drop the bandage. She whirled around, seeing a silhouette in the tent flap.

"No." She answered blandly, recognizing the shape as her brother. Or, rather, Erin's brother.

"I remember when you were younger, you were so scared of blood that you'd rather stay inside. First time scraping your knee and you acted like it was the end of the world." Maxwell chuckled quietly as he entered. He grunted as he took a seat near the entrance, his amber gaze looking up at his sister. "It wasn't even that bad."

Liz stared, unsure of how to respond. Even with the memories that she sometimes dreamt about, such a small incident never even popped up.

"I guess I grew used to it." The woman turned back and finished wrapping the patient's arm, ignoring the way her stomach turned. She walked over and began to wash her hands in the basin, little clouds of pink dyed the clear water. She flicked her hands and wiped them against her tunic. "I needed to talk to you."

"Me too." He paused and scrunched his eyebrows, "Well, I needed to talk to _you_. Not _me_. That would be just weird."

"It's okay to talk to yourself. It's when you begin answering is when it becomes a problem." Liz repeated her grandmother's saying, a small smirk appearing on her freckled face.

"Erin..." He warned as he stood up. Liz held up her hands in the universal 'surrender' gesture. He sighed as they made their way out of the tent.

The evening sky was alight with orange and red hues. The crisp air hit her nose, causing the hairs to freeze. Liz's feet sloshed through the dirt and snow as they made their way out the front gate. Guards paid them no heed as people were milling about, likely getting done with their daily duties.

"I need your help." He spoke before she could even say what she wanted to say, "Eventually there will need to be a decision made. Either I'm going to have to ask for help from the mages or the templars."

Liz blinked, taking in the small bit of information. She knew that there had been a Mage/Templar War going on. It was why the Conclave was being held in the first place. She didn't know much about this world, but she didn't live under a rock.

"So, the Almighty Herald of Andraste needs my help." It slipped out of her mouth before she could stifle it. The snarky remark hadn't been her intent. She'd been trying to keep a reign on her comments, afraid of appearing un-Erinlike.

Maxwell snorted and elbowed the girl in the side, "Quit it. This is serious."

"Apologies." She bowed her head and looked off at the setting sun.

He, evidently, was dead set on her staying. As if the thought that she would want to leave didn't even cross his mind. And maybe that's how Erin was. Though Liz lived as Erin, she barely knew how to _be_ Erin. Even as of that day.

"I'm not sure when, but I know eventually they are going to be asking me for my opinion. They are too split on what to do." The young man's brows scrunched as he rubbed his beard.

"If I'm to be honest, I don't trust either side. Templars even less so, for obvious reasons." Liz shared, "I want to be unbiased, but I think asking me for help on your decision is probably not the best idea as of right now."

They were quiet for some time, simply staring at the people in Haven as they passed by doing their own thing. Occasionally a child would giggle and run by, followed by others chasing after him. The young mage looked up at her brother, seeing how confused he looked. But that wasn't all. It was the complete and utter lost look in his eyes that caused her to pause.

Her brown gaze slipped off of his and she stared at the snow guiltily. Here he was, trying to help with the tear in the sky. And there she was, trying to find a way to run away from it all.

"…Gathering information is never a bad thing. It may help with coming to a decision." She offered quietly.

"Thank you." He lets out a breathy laugh, "I think I mostly just needed someone to talk to without them looking at me and calling me 'Herald'. I mean, I have a name you know."

He pouted and Liz smirked.

"I hear you're headed off to Val Royeaux soon. Is there anything you needed me to do while you were gone?" She offered, almost hesitantly. Any thoughts of leaving having disappeared from her mind after the guilt she felt just moments ago. Her hands came up and she fidgeted with the fur lining of her armor.

"You have enough on your shoulders at the healer's hut." He shook his head.

"Your friends don't really seem to like me, anyway." He looked at her oddly, "The redheaded one stares at me like I'm a piece of meat and Cassandra looks like she wants to chop me in half. Let's not get into the mistrustful glances. I mean, I know I'm a mage and all … but."

"They're not allowed to hurt you." He spoke with an edge to his tone that she'd never heard before. "It was my only condition for cooperation with the Inquisition." A chuckle, "Even though I would have helped them anyway."

"Even if they kept me imprisoned or hurt me?"

"They wouldn't have." He sounded so confident. He turned away from her and walked away from the healing tents. Liz followed, curiously.

They slowly ambled through Haven, the traffic having lessened as the sun made it's descent from the skies. With only the occasional guard that walked by, it was silent.

"I appreciate what you're doing for these people, Erin." He spoke, puffs of white air floating in front of his face as he did. The crisp air filling her nostrils as she listened to Maxwell speak, "I won't ask where you learned to stay calm under those circumstances."

She paused to think for a bit, before realizing he was referring to her fast reactions to some of the fatal injuries that the soldiers sometimes had. Liz had gained some respect from Adan for her efforts in stabilizing his patients in his absence. Although with much reluctance. The old man still didn't seem to like her.

Or maybe that was just how he was.

"I had a mentor." She answered, though not the whole truth. She did, but it wasn't where she learned that particular set of skills. Magic is what she learned from Athras.

"We might need you on some missions. Having a medic along with us will ensure our safety." He nods, "Besides, I can protect you."

Liz scoffed.

"I can protect myself."

That didn't seem like the right answer. The older Trevelyan looked saddened, for whatever reason. She opened her mouth to apologize, feeling bad again. But she didn't get the opportunity to. In her haste to keep up with Maxwell, she'd failed to notice the person in front of her as she collided with them.

"Unf!" She grunted, stumbling back. Steadying herself, Liz looked up. And up. And up. A tall man stood in front of her. She wasn't sure if his skin was grey because of the darkened sky or if it was just like that. But-

Horns. He had _horns_. Horns that kind of looked like ones that should be on a Texas Longhorn. A bull. The tall man looked down at her and waved with his big meaty hand.

' _What the fuck is that?'_ Liz asked herself as her brown eyes nearly popped out of her head. Her gaze went from the man's stomach to his face, then right to his horns. She stumbled back again, barely able to catch her balance.

The man standing beside the huge grey one looked almost irritated.

" _That_ has a name, boy." The brunette glared at Liz, arms crossed across his chestplate.

"U-Uh… oh." She hadn't realize she spoke aloud. Maxwell looked almost mortified.

"Erin." He hissed quietly, his hand thwapping her on the shoulder. "This is The Iron Bull, the leader of the Chargers. The reason I went to the Storm Coast?"

"A-Allies, yes. Sorry. How do you have horns? People can have horns, here?" The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to bury herself in the dirt. She might as well have dug her own grave.

"You know, coming from a noble family, you'd think you would know what a Qunari was." The big man, Iron Bull, spoke. His lone eye peered down at the short woman, who was almost dwarfed due to his sheer size. She swallowed thickly, opting for not answering at all.

"Qunari, people that govern the islands of Par Vollen and Seheron. It was covered in our private courses, Erin!" Maxwell rattled off, as if trying to remind her. His hands gestured violently, face turning red. The young man was obviously flustered at her social misstep.

"I apologize." She coughed out, still unable to take her eyes off of his horns. "I've just never seen— _Jesus you're big_ —a Q-Qun-"

"Qunari." Maxwell offered helpfully, voice high pitched and squeaky.

"It's alright, I get that a lot." The man smirked and she could have sworn she saw a twinkle in his grey eye.

"Ugh. Gross, Chief. Keep it in your pants." The young man beside him spoke up, bumping him in the side. The Qunari simply chuckled. Liz's eyes widened even more, if at all. Now it was her turn to turn red.

"Aw, but she's kinda cute ain't she? So little, like a dwarf." The large man let out a bellowing laugh, "Hey, Boss. You never mentioned you had a sister."

"She—oh." The brunette seemed to fumble before offering his hand, "Apologies, I didn't know you were the Herald's sister. The name's Krem."

Liz took his, hesitantly. Her arm flopped as he shook her hand.

"Maker help me." Maxwell muttered from behind her.

* * *

 _Sometimes in her dreams she will hear the distressed voice of Erin "P-please... My brother."_

 _"What?"_

 _"Brother. Bro-" it was cut off, voice echoing in the deep depths of the darkness._

 _"Keep him safe" the whisper hissed right next to her ear and Liz couldn't help but_ yell. She felt her body as it flew into a seated position, eyes wild and body shaking from a cold sweat.


	9. Old Wounds

_"Old Wounds"_

A terrified shriek rang through the empty wooded area, causing the occupants of the tent to scramble out.

"Auri!" A blonde elven girl called, trying to get her friend's attention. Her eyes were unfocused as she lay on the dewy grass, her body already succumbing to shock.

"Just give us all yer stuff and ya don't have ta get hurt." A man commanded, sword drawn and pointing at the two. The young woman, Auri, was already on the ground with a huge gash in her side. Blood pooling at a dangerous rate.

"Erin, help! Auri is hurt!" The girl cried, but Liz was already gone. Their voices fading into the darkness as she stumbled into the bushes and into safety. Leaving the two women alone at the camp with a rather large group of bandits. "Erin!"

Liz was afraid. Terrified, in fact. She could try to help, sure. But this was at a point in her life that she didn't trust her abilities. The fire, pricked and prodded in her veins. Threatening to burst out. A constant reminder of what she'd done. What she could do.

She'd been communicating with Auri to get ingredients as per request from Athras. It was a mutually beneficial agreement. They'd trade materials. Auri had access to shipments in town and they had access to the plentiful supplies in the wilderness. Meetings took place well outside of the towns.

One night during a meeting, unfortunately…

Sobs echoed through the woods as Liz slowly made her way back, shame filling her being. She'd run. She'd run away when they needed her. She'd abandoned them and—

The blonde haired elf was curled over a body, wracked with sobs. Auri lay there, unmoving. It looked like red paint splashed and pooled beneath her. The blonde elf let out another pained cry for help, throwing her head to the sky.

"Why _whywhy_?" She sobbed, their camp completely ransacked. The bandits, gone. Having no interest in the people. Liz just stood there, in the treeline and watched her mourn. Silent.

* * *

The memory of then seemed to morph before her very eyes. The young elven girl. Her blonde hair, once long, was now chopped haphazardly above her shoulders. Auri had always said she loved Sera's beautiful hair.

They had been best friends.

Liz stared at the girl as she came waltzing into Haven. She almost couldn't believe her eyes. Sera was here. Aside from her hair, Sera hadn't changed one bit.

The otherworlder flinched from her perch as Sera's eyes passed over her, paying her no mind. She almost wanted to hide, but then realized she was in her crow form. She couldn't recognize her.

' _Not yet.'_ A voice inside of her sneered. _'She will find you. Find out.'_

Liz cursed. Especially when Maxwell made eye contact with her from his spot behind her. Sera was rambling, from the looks of it. But he motioned for her to come down. The small group had stopped near the tavern, snow fluttering down gently from the overcast skies.

He knew. There weren't many crows in the Frostbacks, she'd imagine. Liz fluffed her feathers and shook them, getting the light dusting of snow off of them. She hopped off of her perch and flew down, landing on Maxwell's outstretched arm. He smiled when she tilted her head, as if to say, _'What do you need?'_

"This is Sera. She is part of a group of people called the Red Jenny's. She was just telling me about how her and her people could help us." He explained, getting a rather odd look out of Sera as she watched the exchange. "What do you think, Erin?"

Liz peered between Maxwell and Sera, who appeared almost disturbed that he was talking to a crow like it was a person. She ruffled her feathers from her spot on his arm. She had to concentrate on the task at hand as opposed to the turning of her stomach. Better now than later, she assumed. Sera was not going to be happy to see Liz.

"Yer talkin' to the bird... sorry to break it to ya, but..." Liz cawed in response, getting a squint out of Sera. "Oi, wait... is that?"

The otherworlder felt her body shift and noted the way the elven archer's face drained of all it's color. She pulled out her bow and notched an arrow. When Liz was completely formed, she held her hands up in the universal 'surrender' gesture.

"She is trustworthy. Sera was a friend of Auri's." Liz spoke up, almost afraid to see Sera's expression as it turned from fear to complete and utter fury.

" _ **You."**_ A venomous growl erupted from Sera.

"The two of you know each other?" Cassandra, who had just approached asked. The warrior's armor clinked as she came to a stop between the two women. As if to act as a buffer of some sort.

"Mutual friend." Liz says, trying to hide the pain in her voice but fails. The Seeker looked confused.

"I ain't no friend of yers." Sera spat, causing Liz to flinch and nod.

"I was simply stating-"

"I don't care! You're the reason Auri is dead! You killed Auri!" She accused, throwing the arrow on the ground at Liz's feet. Obviously recognizing that trying to hurt Liz in front of the 'Herald' would be a bad idea.

"Wait. Wait. What is going on, here? Stand down, Sera." Cassandra had her hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to fight if need be. Liz simply stood there, frown on her face.

"Auri was a family friend of the Trevelyan's." Maxwell's hand was scratching his facial hair, a thoughtful look on his features. "She was murdered by some bandits during a supply run, from what I understand."

"Then how is this Erin's fault?" The Seeker inquired, looking at the hysterical rogue.

"She abandoned us." She growled, "You don't abandon friends."

Those last words were punctuated so carefully, they dug at Liz's heart. She knew. You never abandon friends. She didn't want to. But she had to.

That's when she put her bow away, causing some of the tension to drop. She gave a rather heated glare in Liz's direction. Hate simmered behind her eyes. Absolute hate. She definitely blamed the young mage for the death of her best friend.

Because of her departure, Auri died. Sera survived, but hadn't been able to protect her due to the suddenness of the ambush.

It was Liz's fault. She could have given her life saving care, sure. But she could have also accidentally killed them all. But any kind of explanation simply sounded like an excuse, even in her head.

So she remained silent.

What happened at the library in the White Spire was proof enough just how dangerous mages really were. It took her a better part of the year simply trying to learn to concentrate so she didn't accidentally kill people. Even now, there was still that chance.

"Just keep 'er away from me, will ya? I don' want to see her stupid frigging face." The girl stomped off toward the tavern, leaving the small group in silence. Maxwell looked deep in thought before his gaze trailed from Sera's empty spot to Liz.

' _I would hate me too, if I were you.'_ She watched the elf stomp away toward the tavern, ' _I already hate me.'_

"Is this true?" Maxwell was the one that inquired.

"She was not lying." Liz mumbled, causing Maxwell to wince. He looked as though he didn't know what to think on the matter. Cassandra, who had been standing there waiting to speak to her brother, was now looking at Liz with a look akin to disdain. Disappointment.

"You abandoned a girl in the time of need and allowed her to just die?" Cassandra asked, almost incredulously.

"I don't expect you to understand, but believe me when I say that was the best thing I could have done." Liz explained as she unconsciously picked at her arm warmers, which covered her burn scars along her forearms. She almost failed to notice how her brother's eyes seemed to trail over them before looking back up at her face. Cassandra looked even more irritated at her words.

The young mage sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she turned to walk away. She ignored the swift words between the two warriors. Her brother likely had an idea as to what went awry, but she felt... Liz felt that if she tried to explain it to Sera... that it really wouldn't matter either way. Auri was already dead.

And she loathed herself for it.

* * *

Liz spent a majority of that day sulking in her cat form. She'd only ever been able to shapeshift into smaller creatures. These were the two she picked. It took extensive training and concentration to even perfect them enough to lounge around as said animal.

Cats were nice. The only cat she'd been able to stare at and use for reference having been Athras. So a grey short haired tabby is what she'd went for.

The young mage ambled around, head hanging low as she ignored the commotion around her. Though she seemed to linger near the healer's tents and Adan's hut, just in case she was needed in an emergency. Just because she was feeling awful didn't mean she would ignore other people's problems as a result.

The woman seemed to especially avoid the tavern, for obvious reasons. Sera seemed to stay in and around the place. Liz didn't have it in her to see Sera at that point. Guilt ridden, she listened to others with a sort of detached interest.

Maxwell, as she'd learned that day, had made the decision to side with the templars in the war and ask them for help. Liz officially had no stance in the war, but didn't really like the templars at all because of the experience she had with them.

But she didn't like mages, either. She saw, firsthand, what mages could do. Although she felt it was unfair to think that way, since just because she had horrible control didn't mean others did as well. She still felt biased against both sides.

Same would go for templars, right? Not everyone was the same. Liz had to constantly remind herself of this fact. Even though it was very difficult to try to remain objective in a situation where she had emotional ties to.

Liz's haze of self-pity was interrupted by a rather loud noise.

In the distance, she could hear people yelling. Then the sound of a screech. A familiar screech that made Liz's eyes twitch. Quickly, the woman trotted toward the sound. Her paws splashed against the slush as she rounded a corner behind a building. It was there, she transformed into her human form. She continued her jog toward the commotion and abruptly came to a skidding stop at the gate to Haven.

A couple of soldiers were surrounding the beast as it reared its body and kicked out. It screeched again, only to spot Liz at the entrance of the town.

Liz glared.

"Rin…." She spoke, seeing her push passed the people and knocking a few others over. She was going too fast! The blue beast barreled in her direction. "Rin. Rin Rin! Wait, stop! _**RIN**_!"

She yelled, feeling the air leave her lungs as Rin headbutted the mage and sent her skidding back first into the slush and snow beneath her. She wheezed and squeezed her eyes shut, tears pricking at the edges. "Oh Gods..."

The sound of metal singing against a sheath sounded from above her.

"Erin, are you okay?!" Maxwell yelled and she held up her hand, giving him a thumbs up.

Rin screeched and stood above Liz, the blue velvety nose right in front of her face.

"Calm, Maxwell. It's just … this is… Rin." She tried to breathe, though with much difficulty. She looked at the beast and growled, "What...what was _that_ for?"

The only answer she got was spittle as Rin 'sneezed' into Liz's face. She could have sworn she heard someone make a disgusted noise from beside Maxwell. Maybe even a few snorts from some passerbys.

Liz leaned up and grabbed Rin's bridle, her eyes narrowing and meeting the blue beast's. Both refusing to yield. The young mage hissed in a low tone, so no one else could hear. "I swear to all that is holy, Rin. Quit your shit."

The hart flattened her ears against her head, letting out a low growl in return.

"Ummm… Erin? Is this yours?" Her brother asked as she wriggled her way out from underneath her legs. Liz simply sighed and wiped off the mud, though that did nothing for her soaked state.

"I suppose you could say that." She answered, looking up at the young man. His eyebrow rose. "We were separated during the explosion. I guess she found me."

That, at least, was true. Technically Rin was Athras' hart. Though she still couldn't stop referring to her as an 'elk-moose-thing' in her head.

Maxwell shook his head and simply turned to walk off, stating that he would be in the Chantry if she needed him. Cassandra stood there, looking down at Liz contemplatively. The young mage felt smaller under her gaze, but refused to let it show on her face.

"Do you need something, Seeker?" She asked, trying to sound polite. Though it came out snappy. Liz winced, but it didn't seem like the woman even cared all that much.

"We are to be headed out to Therinfal Redoubt tomorrow."

"I know, he has informed me."

"I understand Max—the Herald's hesitance to bring you out into the field." She coughs, trying to cover up her slip-up. Liz knew that Cassandra and Maxwell seemed to be getting along quite well. They seemed close, like friends. But it wouldn't surprise Liz if her brother tried to court the woman, if given the chance.

She saw the looks he gave her, afterall. The admiration. The soft smiles and the way he tried to impress her. Liz nodded, "What is it that you need? You wish for me to accompany you guys?"

"It would be for the best, yes. I have seen how efficient you are in stressful situations. Having a combat medic in our midst could prevent additional loss to our squad."

"And potential allies." Liz finished, knowing that the likelihood of the 'invitation' being a trap was high. Something that she'd intended to inform Maxwell, but it seems his friends had all of that under control. "As much as I … care for Maxwell, he can be quite blind to these kinds of things. He lacks the ability to think ahead and plan for the worst."

"He is a good man." The Seeker defended, a hardness in her eyes.

"I never doubted that." Liz smirks, "I am just glad he has people like you to look out for him. Thank you."

The warrior looked almost taken aback by Liz's sudden switch in demeanor. Her usual distant or bored expression gone. The mage would be lying if she said she hadn't gotten attached to the eldest Trevelyan.

Even though she felt she had some sort of obligation to keep Erin's brother safe, due to her dreams plaguing her as of late. But … it wasn't just that. The man had a way about him. The way he walked and talked. His beliefs, much like the Seeker's, that he was put in this position for a reason. He was slowly changing, but not like she'd expect. Unlike most, where power corrupted. For Maxwell, he felt the need to protect. To use that power to change the world, for the good. Not with the heavy handedness of most leaders, no. But with a gentle coaxing hand that had surprised her at first.

' _He is the epitome of Lawful Stupid. Poor man.'_ she thought. Remembering how it'd almost gotten him hurt more than a couple of times. Swooping in to 'save the day' only to get ambushed by bandits.

Liz snorted and laughed, only to blink and look around. Evidently Cassandra had left. The young mage had missed what the woman had said to her before she walked off. Too lost in her head. Liz sighed and turned, ambling toward their shared cabin.

* * *

 **Cole**

Cole hadn't known what he was, initially. There was really no other way to put it. Most of his time spent at the White Spire had been filled with confusion as he tried to find his way. Find a way to not disappear and fall into the darkness. He didn't understand. He did what he could. What he thought was right.

But he had been wrong.

He realized that, now. Cole thought that it was a bit too late, on his part. Rhys thought him a monster, the templar Evangeline was killed by the Lord Seeker. Wynne died to bring back the templar woman. Everything was a mess and it was all his fault.

Lord Seeker Lambert had been a bad man, oppressing the mages and causing many deaths along the way. He'd also hurt his friends, so Cole killed him. No one hurt his friends and got away with it.

Deep in his thoughts, the rogue sat perched atop a wooden scaffolding inside of Therinfal Redoubt. He knew that they couldn't see him, that as long as he wished it they wouldn't. He wasn't human, afterall. After he'd realized what he was, a demon, he could control it. His realization had been a major turning point for him. Once he knew, he no longer felt the need to sleep or eat. He could even make people see or forget him at will.

So he was here. To see the templars.

Originally he'd had the idea to go there for their help, afraid of what he was and what he could become. He knew that they would cut him down and kill him if he became what he was. If he hurt people again. But Cole saw the corruption inside of the templars. It was burning in their veins, making them angry. Not them, but what was inside of them. It sang a different song.

So he watched. For days, weeks even.

Though the young man had to keep his distance. In particular, the man named Lucius. His face didn't match his words. It didn't feel right. Lucius was like Cole, but not. He was Envy, wanting to find his place. But he was doing it _wrong_. He was hurting people.

Cole also knew the Herald of Andraste was to arrive that day. And when they did, he shadowed them. Observing them, too. Were they corrupted? Like the templars? No.

But he did see one face that caused his chest to go cold. He recognized that person. Erin. What was _she_ doing here?

Flashes of their time in the Spire flew before his eyes and he had to shake his head to rid himself of the images. The images of her dirt smeared face, wide frantic eyes. The blood, oh Maker the blood.

Would she remember him?

He didn't have time to think about it. But he knew he'd have to try harder to stay out of sight. He still wasn't sure if Erin would be able to see him, even though he now had control over it. He tilted his head, taking comfort in the way his hat hid most of his face. Shielded him from the world.

Erin felt… off. Erin wasn't Erin. Everything, a lie. His eyes flicked to the dwarven woman at her side. Jade Cadash felt broken somehow. Knots upon knots. Tangled, tearing, trying to stay together. Something missing. Then there was Maxwell, the weight of the world on his shoulders. Can't back down. Can't falter. But… fear. Trying to see him hurt, though. It was bright, almost blinding.

A woman with short hair and an angry face. Cassandra, grim determination, protection. She shadowed the Herald like a sentry. Then another dwarf, but he had a crossbow—

Lost in his thoughts, Cole had almost missed the opportunity to follow them into the building. A noble of some sort was trying to give the group orders, but he paid the man no mind. He was too focused on trying to remain hidden from them. Or, Erin in particular. He didn't want her to see him right then.

The blonde rogue fidgeted in the corner of the room, watching as the situation escalated in a blink of an eye. It didn't surprise him at all. He knew. It was why he remained. Stayed, because he didn't want the anger inside of them to spread. To hurt.

A fight had broken out. He knew they were placing a trap for the party. But it seemed, at that moment, the group needn't the help he could provide. So he remained in the shadows.

Battle hardened as they were, Erin stayed in the back. Looking almost unsure of herself. She clutched her staff, knuckles white. He observed the way her brown gaze flicked between her comrades. As if expecting something. Waiting. Like him.

"Oh yeah, you want a piece of me? Come and get it, bitches!" The black haired dwarf yelled from the background, pulling his gaze from the mage in the back. The short woman waved her halberd around, smirking. One of the templars charged forth, taking her bait. If her smirk could get any wider, it did. Jade strafed to the side and swept low, knocking his feet from underneath him with her weapon. This sent his heavy body toppling onto the floor.

' _ **CLANK!'**_

A maniacal cackle, _**'THUD!'**_

She hit the man in the face with the butt end of her halberd, knocking him out. She stood above him and jeered, "Daaaaamn. You got _knocked the fuck out!"_

"Sassy! Get your head in the game!" A sharp command from Varric, caused her to get into a serious fighting stance. Though the smirk didn't leave her face.

"Got it, old man!"

A sigh, _**'THUNK'**_. The arrow hit it's mark. "You too, Sunny. Quit your dawdling."

Cole could have sworn he heard the older dwarf, Varric, mutter something about babysitting.

* * *

Envy had tried to steal Maxwell's face. Take his place. Cole wouldn't allow it. They were currently fighting off against the demon, swords drawn. They surrounded the thing, in a familiar formation as they worked in tandem. Yelling could be heard from across the battlefield. The young rogue remained hidden, popping in and out of vision. He couldn't necessarily control whether he could be seen or not while he attacked.

His daggers moved, telling his body where to go. Where to strike. Footwork, like a dance. It almost felt natural to him.

He'd almost gotten hit by an arrow or two, the dwarf having panicked at his sudden appearance. The warrior woman had shield bashed him in her surprised state, but he made her forget he was there once he disappeared.

Erin had gone missing. Cole knew for sure that she'd followed the group out to fight against the demon. Having determined that the medics and healers that the templars had could keep their wounded stable. She felt … protective. Her determination had practically rolled off of her as she shadowed the Herald. Much like Cassandra.

Who was he to her? He wanted to say brother, but—it didn't feel right. Maxwell looked at Erin and thought 'sister'. But Erin looked at Maxwell and… confliction.

Once the battle was finished, everything went still. The only sound coming from the warriors as they panted from overexertion. Erin had appeared, though Cole had no idea where she'd been prior.

Jade was the first to speak, "Balls. No wonder it tried to steal your face. That thing is frigging hideous."

' _ **Thwack!'**_

"Ow!" Maxwell whined, causing everyone to look in his direction. "What was _that_ for?"

Erin stood there, looking absolutely demonic. The mage was staring him down, her staff held in her hand like a club. Cole blinked. Confused. Hadn't she been adamant on keeping him safe? Why did she jut hit him over the head?

"Being stupid." Was her answer, as if it were obvious. Cole saw the way some of them frowned in disapproval at her actions. "Using yourself as a human shield will accomplish nothing, Maxwell."

The warrior simply grinned sheepishly, his hand scratching the sore spot on the top of his head.

From what Cole had witnessed, the Inquisition was there simply to help. They were set on closing the Breach and helping the people get back on their feet. To defend them.

The rogue was certain that the Herald was a good man, though it was incredibly hard to read him. The mark on his hand made it harder. Whenever he tried to focus in on him, it was like trying to look at the sun. It hurt. But it wasn't impossible, which was why he had gotten that initial impression. Kind, courageous—compassionate toward the people.

Being inside of his head for that short period of time helped, too. Cole and Envy both found out just how far he'd go to keep those he cared about safe. He'd, afterall, considered killing himself in order to kill Envy.

It'd taken Cole's convincing to tell the warrior that it didn't work that way.

So the lanky rogue followed the group as they headed back to Haven. Silently shadowing them, watching as they sat around the fire that night. His head tilted to the side, wondering when he could ask to join.

Cole, afterall, made sure to let Maxwell remember.

So he sat there in silence, fiddling with the wraps on his hands in the treeline.

"What was that?" He heard someone say, his eyes widened in alarm.

* * *

 **Liz**

Liz was tending to the wounded along with a few of the other healers that happened to tag along. They had only taken a handful of scouts along with a few of Maxwell's friends. Luckily, there had only been few fatalities.

The young woman sat near the tent that night, tending to the wounds of a young man. The campfire provided amble heat and illumination for checking and redressing the wounds of the injured. Although the one she was currently working on wasn't all that injured at all.

It was a young man, who called himself Kyle, that she often took care of in Haven. Adan had taken a liking to calling him Klutz. Evidently he'd been from around Haven from before the explosion and the old man had known him. If the familiar banter had been anything to go by.

"How are you feeling?" She asked as she carefully redressed his wounds. Kyle peered up at her from underneath his mass of tight black curls.

"It could be worse." He answered and she wanted to hit him across the head. One should never say that. But she refrained and simply paused and twitched.

Kyle had some scarring in very … odd places. Signs of wounds that _should_ have been fatal, but weren't. Liz was surprised he wasn't dead.

"Do you go out _looking_ for trouble, or does it find you?" She grumbled.

"Now you're starting to sound like Adan." He grinned, "Old lady."

Liz tightened the bandage a little too much, getting a startled squeak from the scout.

"What did you say?"

"Ah-ahah—ah! Sorry!"

"We found you _underneath a fallen scaffolding._ " She hissed, "With all the shenanigans you get into, I'm surprised you're not dead."

Indeed, the scout had been pinned underneath the mass of wood. Somehow. The poles barely grazing his head, as if he'd almost been impaled.

"Aw, come on sis. Go easy on the poor guy." Maxwell spoke through a mouthful of rations, his back turned to her as he sat at the fire. She could practically see the crumbs flying in her mind's eye. The woman let out a puff of air, nose flaring.

"Either he's still alive out of sheer luck, or skill. You gotta give the guy that, Sunny." Varric chimed in.

"Hey, yeah! What did you do before all of this?" Jade sounded enthusiastic, practically bouncing in her spot next to Varric. Her hands had stilled from her polishing of her halberd, "I bet you were a mercenary. Or, _OOH_! You were a town guard, huh?"

"I was a potato farmer." Kyle drawled, completely killing the image in everyone's head.

"…..oh."

"So it's luck." Varric concluded, bowing his head and scratching his chin.

"Is it?" Liz sounded skeptical and she blinked, thinking she saw something in the treeline just behind the group. Her brown eyes narrowed as she stood up, her bow already in her hands. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Maxwell swallowed his food and grabbed his sword. She pointedly ignored the way half of his face was covered in crumbs and bits of jerky.

' _Thunk!'_ She let her arrow fly.

"Eep!" She heard someone squeak from the bushes, followed by the sound of a body falling.

"Show yourself!" She called, pulling out another arrow and aiming it.

A few of the others had taken to their battle stances, but it was Maxwell that had relaxed once he saw the tall lanky form exit the greenery. The moon and fire barely allowed Liz to see much, but she did see the ridiculously sized hat that he was wearing.

"You were following us? Why didn't you say something, Cole?" The elder Trevelyan sighed in relief, "I thought you were a bandit. Or worse, a bear."

Bears were worse?

"You know this man?" Cassandra asked, though her stance hadn't relaxed one bit. Skepticism ran through her gaze as she took in his form. The young man wasn't holding his weapons, which were strapped to his back. He was wearing leather armor, from the looks of it.

So, a rogue.

"Yes, don't you remember? I told you that he helped with the Envy demon. If it weren't for him, I would have had my pretty face taken." He smiled over at the Seeker, sheathing his sword in the process. He then turned back to the rogue, "Why don't you come and sit with us?"

He simply fidgeted in place as Liz stared at him critically. Her eyes practically bored holes into his hat. She couldn't see his features, but something was niggling at the back of her mind. The young woman took a few steps forward, almost getting into his personal bubble.

For once in her life, she was glad she was short. He couldn't hide underneath his hat if she were in front of him. She squinted at him. He stared back, his eyes slowly widening. Was that fear— _wait_.

That was when realized why he seemed so familiar.

"Erin? What's wrong?"

That's when Liz looked at him, _really_ looked at him. He was easier to see, even though the light from the fire was dim. That shaggy blonde hair, shielding the most striking blue—

 _No._

She'd definitely seen those eyes before.

She felt frozen in place, like everything stopped. Her breathing, her heart. The fear in Cole's eyes spread to the rest of his face, his mask cracking. Uneasiness.

' _Cole was – Cole was the person that I met back at-'_

"Oh." Was the only thing that came out of her mouth. "It's you."

"You remember me." He breathed, almost like the thought itself was impossible. She frowned and she spoke before she even got the chance to think about what she was about to say.

"We were both covered in blood when we first actually met. How could I forget?" That caused his face to falter and she winced, eyes darting over to her brother. Evidently the topic was a sensitive one for him, as well.

"The two of you know eachother?" He questioned, brows scrunched as he looked between the two of them.

"You could say that." Liz stated through gritted teeth, trying not to let anyone know how uneasy she felt around Cole. Their last encounter did little to endear her to him. In fact, she'd rather not be in his vicinity at all. She was unaware of the way her hand seemed to twitch just over the scar he'd given her.

The young man's shoulders slumped, as if in response to her inner musings.

"I'll finish tending to your men." She bowed her head and left without a word, oblivious to the guilty expression on the rogue's face.

* * *

They were almost back to Haven. Liz flew above in her bird form, wings allowing her to glide across the skies with ease. She kept an eye out for hostiles, ready to swoop down and alarm the group if need be.

Her mind drifted, remembering the times that she messed up during her shapeshifting training.

" _Concentrate, da'len!" Athras had commanded, his staff slamming against the ground loudly. How was she supposed to concentrate when he was being so loud?_

 _Her body got smaller and smaller, slowly morphing. She was doing it. She was—_

 _Then nothing. Everything went black for what felt like only seconds. Then the mage was face first on the ground, her hands twitching against the grass. Athras began to laugh, his dry sounding cackly laugh. Before he started to have a coughing fit._

 _He was speaking, though she knew not what language he was using. She got the odd feeling that he was talking crap about her. Irritation had roiled in her stomach at that moment._

 _Liz pushed herself into a kneeling position, feeling the air shift in places it shouldn't. Her face flushed, realizing that she was completely naked._

" _Eeeugh! What!?" She managed, covering her breasts. "What happened to my clothes?!"_

They had been perfectly good furs. Her first set, in fact. She'd made them herself with her own blood sweat and tears. Liz felt irritation at the memory, cawing as she saw the town in the distance. Athras had gone to explain they got lost in the fade. Somehow.

Not even he was sure how the fade worked. But apparently it had stolen her clothes that time. _'Better that than my life, I suppose.'_

She looked down at the group, seeing them speed up at the sight of Haven. The walls as inviting as ever after their experience at Therinfal Redoubt.

Then Liz saw Cole looking up at her, his expression mostly hidden by his hat. But with her enhanced vision, she could have sworn she saw him smirking up at her. Why would he be smirking—

She snorted inwardly, not really caring either way. In a fit of vindictiveness, she dove down toward the group and transformed just before she hit the ground. Right next to Cole. Her feet slammed against the ground with a resounding, 'Sploosh!'. Slush and mud from the road splashed up, coating the rogue's left side. Some of it even went on his face.

He stared at her, eyes wide. Uncomprehending.

Liz smirked and waltzed away, ignoring the snickers from Jade as she continued forth.

' _Well, that's what he gets for almost killing me.'_ She reasoned.

"Just on time!" The dwarf called, seeing some people unloading crates just outside of the walls to the town. They were setting them next to the gate, Cullen stood not far away with a clipboard and some paper.

Maxwell, for the most part, seemed confused. Probably wondering what had been ordered. The dwarf was ahead, having jogged up to the Commander. They were exchanging words. She turned to them as they approached, giving the Herald a thumbs up.

"I ordered the shipment of lyrium. Upon your suggestion, Herald." The dwarven woman sounded so proud of herself, chest puffed out as she told him.

Liz had been the one to 'relay' the message to Jade, telling her to order some. Just in case they did, in fact, make an alliance with the templars. She knew they needed it. From the knowing look coming from Maxwell, he knew it had been his sister. But she didn't acknowledge the look and simply tried to look indifferent.

"We'll make a killing through the Inquisition! A pleasure doing business with ya, really." The dwarf continued, "Especially with the templars. Oooh, this'll be great."

Her hands rubbed together, soft cackles could be heard as she skittered away to help unload the crates.

That's when she was pulled aside by her brother. It was midday and her stomach had started to growl, demanding sustenance. Though the woman had plans to stop by and make sure Adan and Serana didn't need help, first.

"I apologize for going behind your back. You seemed too busy, so I took it upon myself to make sure there was a small supply waiting." Liz explained, feeling small underneath his gaze. Part of her still wanted his approval, though she didn't know why.

"But how did you know-"

"I didn't. Nothing is ever a set in stone, but it is always good to be prepared." The small mage waved her hand lazily in the general direction of the crates, "Notably, this is only a sufficient amount to last a few weeks. Long enough for you to order some with the use of Jade's connections."

He didn't need to know just how they'd been able to get this small shipment so quickly. Liz had no intentions of revealing such a fact, though she was certain Leliana would agree. Of that, she knew, that Maxwell would not approve.

* * *

Liz dropped a pouch at Adan's workstation, getting an irritated grunt out of the old man. He looked down at the short woman, his eyes crinkling as he glared at her.

"Some of the scouts had time to collect ingredients." She lied as she unhooked some pouches from her belt. Three in total. The elderly man looked like he didn't believe her for a second, before he shook his head and went back to grinding up some elfroot.

"W-We were running low on some things, thank you." Serana's soft voice came from right next to Liz. She looked over, seeing her dig through the pouches. Taking inventory.

She simply waved her hand at the elf, seemingly dismissing her words. They needn't know that she was the one that collected the things. Having learned what did what from her Hahren. If they knew, she would be asked to do it again. And again. People tended to do that, afterall.

"Have you been reading my n-notes?" Serana asked, smiling shyly at the younger mage. Liz grunted, nodding. Not comfortable with really lying so much to her. She hadn't. She couldn't read, afterall. "I-I used them a lot when first learning about th-the plants. Does it help?"

Liz absentmindedly observed the dusty books that lined the old wooden shelves on the wall. Some of the shelves being used for potions and poultices. A wash basin sat at the far corner of the hut. The young mage had requested to have it refilled and washed on a regular basis. Being finicky about treating her patients without first washing her hands thoroughly.

"Yes. Thank you." She mumbled, wishing she could actually read. All of the books, filled with untapped knowledge to her. It itched at her. She wanted so badly to ask someone to teach her.

But her pride would not allow it.

Yelling could be heard just outside of the hut, causing the three to turn and look at the door curiously. Liz, being the closest to the door, got there first and opened it carefully to peek outside. The crisp air filled her nose as she stared at a small grouping of people just outside of the hut.

"Alright alright, line up!" Jade yelled, watching as the group stood in a perfect line and stared at the dwarf. She walked down the line, examining each person with a look of complete concentration on her features. Her eyes squinted and her lip pursed.

Liz took a curious step outside, feet crunching against the dirt and snow.

"No…no…definite no." She muttered and Liz could see those ones visibly deflate at the words. "Ahah! An elf! You, get your arse in there."

"W-W-What?" The timid elf looked at the woman with wide eyes, probably expecting a racial slur of some sort.

"Yes!" She cackled and her expression morphed entirely, giving Liz the impression that she might have some mental stability issues. The dwarf cooed, "You're perfect."

"Jade." Liz was curious, trying to wave away the image she had in her head of Jade petting the elf's face and saying _'my precious'_.

"Erin, dear. It's nice to see you!"

Liz simply gave the small woman a look, wondering why her kitchen staff is made up mostly of elves. The mage knew that she was the lead cook when she was here, but she didn't know much more than that. Her eyes held many questions.

"They have these nimble fingers and they actually do shite right." Jade leaned forward and whispered not-so-quietly, "Also because they're _cute_ , but don't tell anyone I said that."

A cough interrupted Jade's whispers to Liz. The dwarf stood up straight and looked at the source, her nose crinkling.

"Is there a problem here?" It was the bald elf, one of Maxwell's friends.

"Nothing! Erin was just telling me about this—this _thing_ , ya know?"

The man rose an eyebrow, not quite believing her.

"She is gathering kitchen staff." Liz elaborated and the dwarf looked like she'd just been betrayed as she stared over at her.

"Any reason in particular why this is going on in front of my cabin?"

Liz only shrugged at this, not really knowing the answer.

"O-Oh, S-Solas!" Serana skittered up to the man, Solas, and fidgeted. The white haired elf spoke softly, "D-Did you have any t-time to spare? I-I needed to speak with you."

Jade made a 'bleeeegh' noise and stuck her tongue out at Solas when he was looking away toward Serana.

Liz rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. "I need to help Max with some things."

With that, she was off. Ignoring the bickering as Jade accused Serana of fraternizing with the enemy. What he'd done to irritate the dwarf, she didn't know. But the poor man looked completely and utterly confused.

So the young woman simply put it off as another of Jade's oddities. Nothing she did seemed to make sense, afterall.

Maxwell liked to make Liz do the mundane tasks that he didn't feel he needed to be bothered with. Now don't get her wrong, she usually scolded him on the fact that he needed to take responsibility at some point too. But he had these eyes. He would give her those eyes that, she would never admit aloud, could make her cave and do anything.

 _Puppy eyes._

' _I thought that was a trait reserved for_ younger _siblings? Why couldn't I master such an art?'_ Even her sister in her previous life would constantly give them to her, despite her rowdy demeanor.

Maybe it was because technically she was older than Maxwell, mentally. So by that logic, she was actually the eldest sibling. Though only by a year or two, give or take.

Huh.

Liz rounded the corner quickly, trying to get out of Jade's line of sight as swiftly as possible. The snow shifted underneath her feet as she whirled around the corner and her shoulder collided with something soft. The mage heard said soft thing let out a grunt and stumble back against the building with a _'thud!'._ Her ankle rolled and she cringed, arms coming up in attempt to cushion her fall.

' _Not again!'_ Before Liz could get acquainted with the ground, however, an arm hooked itself around her waist and steadied her.

As grateful as she was, she still couldn't help but feel the instant urge to electrocute the person touching her. Though such urges were pushed aside as she stepped away.

"My apologies, I didn't see-" The woman paused mid-sentence, feeling embarrassment flood her system. Oh. _Of course_ she didn't see him.

Cole stood there, looking down at her passively in all of his tall glory. She still couldn't believe she was short, in this world. She thought it was utter crap. Her mouth clamped shut and her eyes snapped down toward his hat, which was now in the snow. A quiet sigh escaped her mouth as she bent down and grabbed it, offering it up to him and trying not to make things awkward. Because it certainly was.

She finally finished, in a hesitant tone "I didn't see you."

"You didn't say anything to Maxwell."

"It isn't my place to say." She directed her gaze elsewhere, not wanting to even look at the man. "But if you harm him, I won't hesitate to fry you."

Before he could answer, she made an ' _I'm watching you'_ gesture as she turned and briskly walked away.

Maxwell, afterall, didn't need anything else to worry about. Especially with the closing of the Breach nearing. Just another month…


	10. Fear

" _Fear"_

" _You're not me. You'll never be me." Erin sneered at Liz, who only could bow her head. She had been staring into a mirror, green fog floated around her ankles. It was like she was being forced to stare at the mirror. Mirrors, which were now her enemy. The fade always made it harder for her to breathe, almost as if being there pulled at something inside of her._

 _She'd put that off as another mage problem._

" _I'm sorry." She stared at the young woman's, now, scarred up body. What was once clear and unblemished, now littered with scars and dirt. The only thing she got was a glare from the girl._

"… _.I'm sorry..."_

* * *

The upper layer of fresh snow sparkled in the sun as they packed their camping equipment onto their horses. The giant pines and spruce trees were piled with the white substance, the branches weighed down and reaching for the ground. The trees and bushes looked absolutely beautiful as they highlighted Winter's greatest masterpiece.

Liz grumbled and tried to put her rolled up tent atop Rin, only for the beast to sidestep out of the way. She was pointedly trying to forget her dream from the night before. She'd awoken, again, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. Sleep never came readily for her, anyway. But that day, she was at her wit's end.

"Rin." She stated sternly, her nose wrinkling. "I'm not really in the mood for your shit today, beast."

The beast screeched and nipped at the woman's long lock of hair, pulling on it. As if saying, _'How dare you call me a beast!'_

"Ugh!" She swatted at her nose, pushing the hart's face away.

"Having trouble?" Solas' voice filtered from behind her. She turned and, she hates to admit it, pouted. "Am I right in my assumption that this is not your hart?"

"No, she isn't."

"It is surprising that she even lets you ride her, judging by your … less than satisfactory relationship with her." He held his hand out to Rin, who put her nose against his hand and nuzzled. The bald elf traced his fingers along her fur, running them in circles. Rin's eyes closed and Liz snorted.

"She seems to like _you_." He shrugged, but he glanced back at her. He was studying her. Thinking he must have been waiting for her to elaborate, she continued. "Rin is … my mentor's hart. He told her to keep an eye on me while I was away."

' _Speaking of Athras, I wonder if he's doing alright?'_ She muses, successfully strapping her gear to Rin.

They stood in silence for a few moments. The way he was looking at her made her want to fidget, but she didn't give in to the urge. Liz simply focused on the task at hand. The blue beast stomped her hind leg, almost getting Liz in her bare foot.

She was about to turn and stick her tongue out at the hart, but saw Solas opening his mouth to talk. She paused, slowly retracting her tongue in embarrassment.

"You appear as though you haven't been getting any sleep. Is there a particular reason why?" He asked and Liz shrugged, averting her gaze. "Serana was discussing it with me the other day and expressed her concern. She speaks highly of you, you know."

' _Oh, here we go...'_ She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. _'So that's why he approached me. Shame on me for assuming someone would actually want to just simply talk.'_

The fidgety elf had suggested going to Solas, before. Because her dreams kept her up and none of the medicine she'd given her helped at all. She'd told her that he would be able to help. Liz had always had issues with sleeping. She'd rather not, to be honest.

"She spoke of your sleeping habits, or lackthereof. She's concerned that your dreams may be what's causing it." The bald elf elaborated, "If you would like, I could—"

"No." The answer was instantaneous. She knew that mages could dream lucidly. She didn't know if it were possible to enter another dream at will, but from the way the conversation was going… "I am fine."

"I understand. I was simply stating that the option is there. If you change your mind, feel free to let me know."

"Right."

She didn't know who he was, and thus did not trust him. She didn't want to trust Serana's judgment, as it was obviously due to her crush on the man. It seemed like the elven woman would speak of him every other minute or so. Gushing over how intelligent he was and how easy it was to talk to him. Once she was alone, Serana's fidgeting and stuttering seemed to almost disappear.

Liz sighed.

Not to mention that her dreams usually consisted of her time back on Earth, mixed and mashed with snippets of Erin's memories (although rare as they were). Having him find out that she was not, in fact, Erin. That would prove to be catastrophic. She'd rather not think about the consequences of _that_ ever happening.

That and… everytime she was in the fade, Liz looked like herself. The way she did on Earth. That, in it of itself, would cause some questions to arise.

The rest of the day was spent riding to the Hinterlands. She'd been asked to come along by Maxwell, that time. Evidently they were to meet a man named Dennet, who was to be the one to provide the Inquisition with horses.

They had some, sure. But only enough for a small party. They were simply making sure he would make good on his part of their bargain.

The young man had gone about putting up outposts and getting rid of the rifts in the area to make sure the man was safe. This didn't really surprise Liz. He had a sort of hero complex, of sorts. Quite frankly, the young mage was surprised he was not dead.

Wanting to help people wasn't a bad thing. Liz wanted to all of the time. It was a part of who she was. But her self-preservation usually kept her from doing so. She'd rather not get betrayed or killed for showing such softness in a world such as this one.

It still tore her up inside everytime she couldn't do anything. Because she was afraid.

He fit the stereotypical 'hero' that most people would think of when they hear the term. Liz had taken it upon herself to remind him of his stupidity when it got out of hand. She was more like a nagging mother than a younger sister, in that regard. He'd almost gotten himself killed numerous times because of his blind shenanigans.

Maxwell had a lot of growing up to do, despite being – well – an adult.

Though she did not fault him on that, because of his strict upbringing and the fact that he knew nothing else. He was sheltered and raised in the care of devout Andrastians. He believed in that kind of crap wholeheartedly. Believing in the good of all people and all that. That wasn't a bad thing either, but it kind of gave him tunnel vision when it came to making decisions on the battlefield.

That wasn't to say that being religious made someone stupid, no. Because Cassandra was religious but she was _far_ from stupid. Maxwell just happened to be stupid _and_ religious.

Point in question—

Liz dismounted and crossed her arms, watching as Maxwell smirked at a woman they'd 'saved' from bandits just seconds before. They'd happened upon a woman getting harassed, only to chase the bad men off. It all seemed … off to her.

So they stood at a bend in the road, a heavily wooded area at the right of the party seemed to make the hairs on her neck rise. No one else seemed to take note of this. Perhaps it was just her paranoia?

Cole, however, was nowhere to be found.

Liz blinked and stared back at the two chatting in front of her.

"Why yes, I am the Herald of Andraste." Her brother shot the woman a charming smile, turning his head to the side slightly. Her blue eyes sparkled in return as she pushed her blonde hair to the side, smiling up at the man. Liz could tell that it wasn't genuine.

"Oh wow, you're as impressive as I imagined!" She practically swooned, leaning into his personal space. "You saved my life and I am forever indebted to you, Herald. Is there any way I can … repay you?"

Cassandra made a disgusted noise from atop her horse.

Maxwell was too focused on the attractive female to realize that she was reaching behind her back for something. She started to pull something out that looked oddly like a short staff as she inched forward. Liz's grip tightened on her own staff as she frowned, muscles tensing.

She swung her staff in an arc and hit the woman in the side, lightning cracking through the silence like a whip. The woman stumbled back and fell to her knees, barely being able to right herself.

"Erin!" Maxwell scolded, looking down at the blonde worriedly.

"You're thinking with the wrong head, Max." She stated blandly, allowing her magic to crackle around her in defense.

The bandit growled angrily, conjuring fire as it wrapped up her arms – hands slowly raising in their direction. Her cover was blown, there was no reason to hide anymore.

Both siblings froze at the sight. Liz's face turned white as a sheet when she saw the fire, wanting nothing to do but to run. But her legs wouldn't move. Her arms wouldn't move. She was stuck in place. When it seemed like the fire was about to explode from the bandit's fingertips, a dagger pierced its way through her throat.

With a gurgle, the woman fell to the ground. Lifeless.

Liz, at that point, was hyperventilating. She stared at the place where the woman had been, seeing Cole instead. His head was tilted, expression hidden behind his massive hat.

"Cole!" Cassandra sounded relieved. Liz shook in place, mindless to the blue sheen that slowly dissipated. A barrier. Likely from Solas.

"S-She looked so sincere! How was I supposed to know?" Maxwell tries to reason with a frown on his face.

"You are hopeless." The Seeker comments, sheathing her sword once she realized there was no more danger. Cole simply watched with detached interest. Liz looked up at him and nodded, finally calming down.

"Thank you, Cole. You rogues really are tricky."

"The fire hurt, tugging at something inside. It scares you." He stated, causing the mage to back up. She'd heard about his abilities but that was the first time he'd used it on her, "I helped."

It was just what he did.

The others were busy either picking fun at Max or commenting on how daft he was. But Liz. Liz was still looking at Cole. He shifted, but didn't avert his eyes.

"You did."

Liz had been on edge for quite some time after that, waiting for whatever was in the woods to pop out. But nothing ever happened. Either whatever, whoever, was there thought differently about doing anything.

After that, they decided to make camp for the night. Seeing as how the sun was beginning to make its descent from the sky. Liz, having finished putting up her small tent, began cleaning her dagger. Her small calloused fingers rubbed circles on the polished brass. The campfire had yet to be lit, as they hadn't gathered the wood. The brass dagger had been the one that she scavenged off of Cole all that time back.

She peered up, seeing him watching her intently. His piercing blue eyes were on the dagger that she held, an unknown emotion flickering through them as he turned and disappeared into the foliage.

She sighed and sheathed it, going off to look for wood before it got too dark.

She wandered around within yelling distance, searching. The tall trees provided ample cover, dead branches and twigs littered the forest floor. While she was out, she even had time to pick some elfroot. Just in case. Elfroot for speeding up healing and numbing pain, basically a major ingredient to the antibiotic on steroids poultice shes learned to use. Embrium for aromatherapy, helped with breathing. Especially those she knew had asthma. The poor bastards didn't even know what asthma was here. Spindleweed. Liz gave spindleweed to Jade to season the stews for the bedridden folk. That trick she'd gotten from Adan himself.

Her mind drifted as she picked up some supplies, absently humming to herself.

Maxwell had a knack for befriending the weird ones. Jade, being the first that popped into her mind. The Iron Bull was downright terrifying. His kind were intimidating, even though he was a jovial man. She avoided him. Sera, she also avoided. For obvious reasons. She'd only spoken to Vivienne a couple of odd times, only to get spoken down to due to her attire. A noble wearing animal skins was apparently not all that common.

But the most intimidating of them all?

He's been there since the alliance with the templars, sure. She's never really had a chance to talk to him. She didn't intend to, though. Liz couldn't really see much underneath all of that hat. Why he'd chosen to wear it was beyond her. She wasn't about to ask.

But they were to keep an eye on him, due to the fact that he wasn't really human. Not at all. The thought itself put many on edge, save Solas. Varric seemed wary, but would still talk to the awkward young man.

But Cole was every bit the deadly assassin. It was like he could step right out of the shadows itself. She'd seen the man in battle. The little dude was swift and deadly, stabbing and killing the enemies with a swift ease that made it all the more unsettling.

Or perhaps Liz was still not used to the killing…

But when they were at Haven, he was usually popping up here and there talking to people. _Only to be forgotten seconds later._ There was only one word to describe how Liz felt about him. Intimidated.

It didn't help that he'd also almost killed her a year ago.

The young mage sighed from her rock, the wood she'd collected sitting next to it. She picked some dirt out of her chipped nails.

The Hinterlands was a pretty nice place, chilly because it was spring but nice nonetheless. The lush greenery swayed with the gentle breeze, quiet chattering filled the air as the group ambled around the camp. She took a long swig from her canteen, some of the water spilling off and dribbling down her face.

"Erin!" Liz heard Maxwell call and couldn't help but internally cringe as she coughed and wiped at her face.

That wasn't her name, but she'd gotten used to it by now and it didn't bother her as much as it used to. The young mage had gotten better at pushing aside the guilt she felt when she thought about how the eldest Trevelyan wasn't even aware his real sister was no longer around.

Sighing, she stood up and brushed off her pants and made her way over to her eldest brother. The leaves rustled in the trees as a gust of wind blew by, causing her hair to whip around in her face. Liz stopped and brushed it away irritatedly, wishing that she had a rubber band.

The mage was about to continue forth but saw movement in her peripheral. What she saw caused her eye to twitch, any conceptions she'd had only moments ago getting shredded and thrown into the wind.

Baffling, was one word that came to mind. Unexpected? Sure. There sat Cole, sitting cross-legged in the soft grass with field flowers spread across his lap as he held one out to a nug. Numerous nugs, to be exact. They flocked around him and nibbled at the soft petals of the colorful flora.

This dangerous assassin, decked out in full leather with knives and daggers strapped in every place you could imagine, was sitting in the grass with flowers – feeding nugs? What the actual-

"Hello, Liz." Said assassin greeted and turned to look at her, his voice deceptively serene. Hearing her name spoken aloud made her feel odd.

"Cole." She addressed flatly, a shiver wracked it's way through her body and it wasn't from the chilly weather. That's when a butterfly decided to land gently on the brim of his massive hat, almost as if to emphasize the point that he wasn't as dangerous and intimidating as she'd previously thought. Well, maybe he was but—Liz stumbled back a little and shook her head. The fact that he knew her actual name didn't even surprise her anymore.

' _This world makes no sense.'_

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Liz. I would never hurt you."

"Oh, I'd beg to differ." She stated blandly, remembering how he'd almost killed her. She was never going to let that go. "'Afraid' would not be the correct term to describe the feelings I have toward you."

"Why?"

' _Because I'm not weak anymore.'_ Was what she wanted to say. But instead, "I know what you are. Who you are. Just remember. I'm watching you."

They were both similar, afterall. Liz had done some very questionable things since her arrival. She thought perhaps out of fear and lack of control. But after Auri had died … she'd gotten worse. There had been absolutely no mercy for those bandits.

She stared down at the rogue, eyes never leaving his. He killed innocent people. Innocent mages. But he admitted to it being wrong. He wanted to change, she knew that much. Part of her wanted to call bullshit, because she didn't believe people could truly change. And part of her felt hope, that perhaps if a monster like him could change. So could she.

But that had yet to be proven. Liz was completely convinced that he was simply just putting on a show. She fully expected to suss him out and kill him when the time was right. She refused, afterall, to simply kill someone because she felt like it. That would make her no different than a bandit.

"You have given me no reason to attack you yet and have proven yourself thus far." Liz explained, tapping her elbow as she looked down at the man. "However, if you hurt any innocents _know this_ – I will not hesitate to cut you down."

At least she was straightforward with it.

That's when he turned and looked up at her – or, at least she thinks he did – an almost relieved smile spreading across his pale features. The rest of his expression hidden, he spoke softly. "Good. Thank you."

What-

' _I just threatened to kill him and he was thanking me? What was this guy_ on _?'_

"Okay..." Some uncertainty actually made it's way into her usually flat and bland tone, just then.

"Erin?" Maxwell was not far behind her. Heavy footfalls and clanking of armor sounded as the warrior made his way to her side. "I needed some help—what're you two doing?"

Liz turned and stared at him, tapping her foot as she crossed her arms. "What did you need this time? I was collecting wood."

"Have you made a _friend_?" He ignored her statement, an odd sort of smile making it's way to his face. "You're finally making friends!"

Even to him, it must have been painfully obvious how hard it was for the young mage to get along with anyone but him.

"Don't be ridiculous." Liz shifted and pushed her staff into the soft bed of grass beneath her feet. Friends were something that she couldn't indulge herself in. Not in this world, anyway. Lest she wished to get herself injured or killed. It was enough that she had to look out for Maxwell's wellbeing and to start caring about another person? Not an optimal way of living in a world such as this.

Most would think that since her brother was so freaked out by anything magic related, though not as badly as Sera was, that he'd dislike Cole. Or in the very least avoid him like the plague. But it was quite the opposite. It was likely because of the fact that the young man had saved Maxwell from an Envy demon, which Liz was grateful for.

Her brown gaze slipped from her brother's overjoyed face back to Cole, who was now observing the both of them quietly. A flower dangled from the tips of his fingers, half eaten, as the nugs sniffed his pockets and made themselves comfortable in his lap.

Yet again, the mage made an ' _I'm watching you_ ' gesture as she strutted away toward the camp. But not before collecting the wood by the rock.

* * *

Their whole time out in the Hinterlands took approximately a week. They'd also helped with escorting the remaining shipment of lyrium for the templars. Meeting up with them on their way to Haven. Liz had kept her distance, preferring to fly above and remain in her bird form. There was a lull in the woman's work back at Haven as Maxwell took off to do some other errands. The deadline for closing the Breach was closing in, so the young man had to close as many rifts as possible until then.

To gain strength.

Liz, just the night before, had actually tried to lay down to sleep. As per suggestion of Serana, who had rejected her offers for help. Simply stating that the younger Trevelyan needed to actually get a full 8 hours before she could go back.

That didn't go over too well. She did try to sleep. However, it had gone less than satisfactory.

She heard the crackling of fire from the fireplace, which seemed to filter into her dreams that night. Causing her to remember her first few weeks on this planet. Her eyes snapped open, breath sharp and quick. Her chest hurt and she tried to push away the screams and the sounds of bubbling flesh.

Shaken, she shapeshifted into a grey tabby cat. That day she simply lingered around Haven, watching everyone as they went about their everyday activities. She saw how Serana and Solas seemed to walk around, talking amicably. Liz felt happy, seeing how comfortable Serana was for a change.

The young woman knew that the white haired elf had some sort of anxiety disorder. She'd seen it manifest itself in a couple of people she knew back on Earth. Although, not quite as crippling as she seemed to have it.

Then there was Cassandra. Who had, oddly enough, remained behind as Maxwell went off to do some things. The Seeker was either out training with the soldiers or near the Chantry talking to the beautiful redheaded woman, who she now knew was named Leliana.

' _Oh? And what do we have here?'_ Liz caught a glimpse of a huge leather hat. Cole sat along one of the stone railings near a staircase, a huge statue positioned right behind him. Every now and again he'd tilt his head and look at someone.

So Liz sat nearby, watching him intently. Her original intent was to gather information. See what the awkward young man was up to.

A group of giggling children ran by, chasing what appeared to be their caretaker. Liz's ears flicked back, tail swishing curiously. Cole watched them, a gentle smile on his face. She noticed how he seemed to twirl a flower between his fingertips. He seemed to be looking for someone.

The tabby cat creeped forward, stopping maybe ten feet away before sitting back down again. She pretended to clean herself.

That's when he spotted his target. She squinted suspiciously as he hopped off the wall and seemed to walk effortlessly through the crowd of midday traffic of people. They almost seemed to move around him, though none looked his way. Like he wasn't even there.

Her whiskers twitched, the wind blowing gently across her fur as she watched the young man hand a teenage boy the flower. He leaned forward and said something to him. The teenager rose a brow, but then his eyes went blank for the smallest of seconds.

Cole made his way back to his perch.

Again, he'd worked his magic. She noted how the teenager walked off like nothing had happened, approaching a cute elven servant.

' _Oh...'_ She had no idea. _'What purpose was that for?'_

She watched him for perhaps two hours. Slowly shadowing him through the town. He didn't seem to take note of her presence. And if he did know, he didn't look her way. He did numerous small things, seemingly assisting with the people of Haven. Things as small as helping a teenager gather the courage to flirt with an elven servant, to collecting materials to help even out the workload for the healers.

It seemed … odd. What purpose did one have by just sitting around and making sure other people were happy? Did he not have things he wanted for himself?

Liz was baffled. Confused.

Maybe he really has changed for the better, whether he seemed to realize that or not. She's changed, too. Only for the worse... she's become more callous and uncaring of other people.

Pain changes people. It made some people more compassionate, and caring. Made them want to help others and never wish that same pain on anyone else. That was Cole. But people like Liz... it hardened them and made them push people away. Her compassionate self from Earth had dwindled to almost nothing. She was more calculated in her actions but had cut off any empathy she may have felt for strangers, in attempt to survive.

It is then, that she viewed Cole in a new light and seemed to observe him closely. ' _Is he just faking? Does he know that I am the cat?'_ But no matter how much she tried to catch him slipping up, he didn't.

For almost a week, she did this. After her daily chores and activities, she would return to her cat form and shadow him. She wanted to make sure he wasn't doing anything fishy, she told herself. But she didn't realize that after a short time, she began to watch him in awe.

' _If he can do it, could I? Why is it that we've turned out so differently?'_ She questioned herself. The world changed people depending on how that person let it change them.

He'd put honey in Leliana's wine. She stayed behind and saw how she seemed to enjoy it. A soft look on her usually hardened features. When her blue gaze trailed down to the grey tabby near the entrance to her tent, Liz let out a chirring noise as she turned and ran. Her tail fluffed out.

That woman was intimidating. She didn't wish to risk getting caught by her.

Then Cole had brought pastries to Cassandra's tent, setting them on her nightstand before she even got back. The Seeker had peeked in, still covered in dirt from training with the soldiers. She sighed, walking into the tent once she saw it was empty. Aside from the cat.

The warrior paid the cat no mind as she walked up and began eating the treat happily. Cassandra looked down at the cat, "Hello there, little one."

She held out her hand to Liz, who stepped forward curiously.

As creepy as it may sound, she certainly did like getting petted. Although getting petted in human form would seem just … weird. These people simply thought her an animal.

She pulled out a book and began reading. Liz almost couldn't believe it when she saw the title. She was reading one of Varric's books! She recognized the picture, for sure. Remembering the man waving it around and bragging about it. Interested, she crawled atop the Seeker's shoulder and stared.

What was all the hype? She knew the titles of the dwarf's books, but hadn't read them for herself. She stared down at the unusual symbols, wanting to sigh at her stupidity. Of course. She couldn't read.

A startled gasp left the woman's mouth, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. Liz turned, ear turning curiously. Cassandra's face was completely red, her eyes entranced with the words on the page.

If the young mage wasn't in her cat form, she would probably have been blushing a very nice shade of fiery red. She promptly exited the tent.

Nope.

She was probably reading smut.

* * *

She didn't know how he did it. All of that loneliness, all of the pain? The same kind of loneliness and pain that made her so bitter and closed off from people? It just made him kinder, more compassionate. And that's when Liz found that she almost … admired him a little bit for it. Seeing such a different person before her eyes was odd. Unexpected, even.

She'd been proven wrong.

Most thought him naive. Innocent, even. But she had a feeling that was far from the case.

Liz found herself hoping. That perhaps, someday she could be a little bit like Cole. To have the courage to show herself and help others so openly. Without fear of being taken advantage of. Without fear of being manipulated or killed. Hurt.

But she doubted it.

* * *

The Breach had been sealed. The battle was hard fought, but went well otherwise. There was wounded, which was to be expected. Liz will never forget the pulling feeling she'd gotten when it snapped shut, sealing the ominous green back into the sky. The air felt different there. It'd made her hair stand on end just thinking about it.

The young mage sat near the healer's tents, going in and checking in on some of the patients. Serana and Adan were making runs back and forth, applying their skills to the more severely wounded. Liz was mainly there for shock management and taking care of the less wounded ones.

There was celebration that night. Everyone was off doing their own thing, so she made herself useful by bringing water and food to the patients. They seemed grateful, especially when she'd went to the tavern to get them each a bowl of special stew that Jade had made in celebration.

People danced and sang around bonfires that night, the twinkling stars above smiled upon them. The woman felt at ease when she sat down nearby to listen. To watch. But that was quickly dashed away when she saw Sera. They both looked at one another.

The elf's smiling face turned sour, before she turned and stomped off. Refusing to look at the mage at all.

"She doesn't know." She heard, causing her to jump and whip around. Cole stood there, awkwardly. He, like her, looked out of place at the festivities. "You didn't tell her because you didn't think it would matter. _'Just excuses. I hate me, too.'_ "

Liz felt her stomach drop. Those were things she'd rather not be spoken aloud.

"I don't hate you."

' _How do you do that?'_ She wanted to ask, but indignation won out and she snapped. "Don't you dare dig around in my head again."

"It's harder to hear you. You won't let me." His blue eyes squinted down at her, almost … it almost looked like he was pouting. "I just want to help."

"Don't. I don't need your help."

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Say words with no meaning behind them. You do it to Maxwell, too." He tilted his head. If not for her frozen state, she would have moved away when he seemed to inch closer. As if trying to listen to her unspoken words. Things she'd kept buried since her arrival, "It's a lie, not right. Say the right things and avoid the truth. You're afraid of what they'll think when they see you and not her."

In a fit of rage, Liz grabbed his hat and yanked it down over his face. Her expression was scrunched up into a scowl as she bit out, "What. Did. I. Say?"

She punctuated each word with jabs from her fingers, hitting him in the ribs. Though not enough to cause much harm.

"Ow! Ow! I'm sorry! I just wanted to help!" His hands came up and blocked most of her jabs, his hat falling off and fluttering to the ground beside them.

"You aren't—" She was cut off when a bell began to toll. A warning, an alarm. Both of them stiffened. Cole looked up, peering over Liz's head and watching the mountains. Horror written on his features.

Liz turned, her face going pale at the sight. Torches flickered, dotting the darkened mountains as they swayed back and forth. Slowly moving in their direction. Hundreds of them.

An army was descending upon Haven.

* * *

It was an absolute frenzy. The troops had moved into position, most of them hadn't gotten out of their armor. Thankfully. Most of the men and women were at the front, defending the town under the command of Cullen. Maxwell and a couple of his friends had disappeared amidst the battle.

Liz remained behind with Serana, who had asked for help with moving the wounded to the Chantry. They scrambled around, trying focus on the task at hand. They were fortunate to have made some stretchers beforehand, which helped with the transfers.

But Liz couldn't help but look up at the carnage outside of the walls. She couldn't see much, due to the darkened skies. But she could hear the screams and the sounds of magic whizzing around and connecting with their allies.

The sounds of metal singing on metal, multiple soldiers fighting for their friends. Their family. Their neighbors. Jade was nearby, inside of the walls. Decked out in heavy armor, taking on the enemies like a pro. Her halberd swung low, knocking some of them off of their feet. She strafed and ducked, barely dodging a fireball. The dwarf was an absolute monster in battle and she was glad that she was on their side.

Liz, on instinct, flung up a barrier upon the dwarf. Offering meager assistance as she fended off the enemies while Serana and Adan took care of the civilians.

"Go!" Liz called to Serana, who had been trying to pull her to the Chantry. "I have to help Jade."

"Erin, please! We need you to help with the wounded!"

"JUST GO." She yelled, channeling her lightning into the staff and sending it lancing out toward an enemy. She watched the mage in hooded robes begin to convulse, dropping his book in the process as he fell to the ground in a smoking heap.

Thankfully, the fidgety elf had taken her advice and ran.

Just then, she heard something she never wished she would ever hear.

The roar of a dragon.

It screeched, causing everyone to cringe and cover their ears. Even the enemies seemed to pause at the sound, only to start up again and begin attacking.

"What's this? A fecking dragon!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Jade yelled, lopping someone's head off in a fit of rage.

Everything seemed to move so fast. She was standing near the gates to Haven with Jade one moment, then everything was set ablaze.

Everything was on fire. Everything. Liz felt dread, like a rock that settled in her stomach.

Then came the screams. Oh God, the screams.

The houses were on fire, moaning from the strain, weakened by the flames that licked greedily at the wood supports. The frantic screams that pierced through the air over the roar of the inferno around them and all Liz could do was stare out into the distance, eyes wide and body frozen.

Maxwell was in the background shouting orders at his companions, making sure everyone was alright. Commander Cullen was getting everyone into the chantry building. People ran passed her, but she paid them no heed. She couldn't move. The enemy was, no doubt, infiltrating Haven's walls at that point.

But Liz couldn't move. Couldn't see anything but the red and orange death as the heat licked at her face.

Everything was ringing and seemed far away, flashes of her time just before death seemed to mock her. Dangling in front of her very eyes and she could have sworn that she could hear her sister screaming, just as she pushed her out of the window.

"Liz!" Screaming. Screaming. Her sister. Her sister was falling, falling. Down down. Then warmth, warmth in the palm of her hand and a soothing low voice. She couldn't decipher what it was that they were saying, but she could feel herself. See everything as it slowly came back. Metal against metal, clanging through the air. Battle. "It's not real."

Not real? The voice. The voice was Cole's.

Warmth gone.

Right, she was not dying. She was in Ferelden. Then, the screaming? It was—

The screaming wasn't her sister, rather it was Jade. Jade was staring at the fiery remains of Haven with a look akin to shocked horror as her hands cradled her head. Her halberd was laying on the ground, in the slush, forgotten as if dropped in a panic.

"Erin, Jade. What's gotten into you two?" Maxwell's shouted voice echoed across the battlefield, even in the heat of battle the man cared about his comrades.

"I-" The young woman couldn't seem to get anything out, her hand twitched and she realized that someone was standing unusually close to her. Right, Cole. Though he wasn't popping her personal bubble, he lingered nearby with his daggers out as he acted as a silent sentry. He was trying to keep both girls safe.

"Move!" Another, more frantic, voice. Cassandra. Liz whirled and looked in the direction of the sound and was greeted with the sight of an ice spike as it whizzed by. She barely had time to dodge, still in a hazy mindset from her breakdown. Hot, searing pain followed. She'd been cut.

"Ugh!" She grunted, covering the wound with her hand and wincing.

Jade was now on the ground with her head in-between her knees, sobbing. Liz was barely coming out of her trauma-filled haze. Cole was standing next to her, looking as if he wanted to help both the girls but couldn't seem to figure out how.

That's when she saw a huge ball of electricity barreling in their direction. Everyone was busy with their own respective enemies. Cole was stuck between the two incapacitated women. Liz's eyes dilated into pinpricks. She was about to get killed by the very element she favored in battle.

Then a black haired man stepped in front of her, his intricate robes billowed as he twirled his staff with flair. She could feel the power radiate off of him as he filled the area around the four with defensive magic. The ball of electricity was discharged as it came into close proximity, completely fizzling out into a shower of sparks that flickered harmlessly at their sides.

He turned and smirked, his curled mustache being the thing that stood out the most to the young woman. "Might want to make a hasty retreat, hmmm?"

Cole grabbed the immobile Jade and carried her off toward the Chantry. Everyone was retreating. Liz followed, flinging haphazard spells and barriers when she could. Which didn't seem like much. The young woman was battling not only with the enemy, but in her mind.

She kept fighting off the images of the fire on Earth, how it ate away everything she knew and loved. What it felt like. How it smelled.

She couldn't get it out of her head. Even as she sat, panting for air inside of the Chantry. The young woman was haunted by the images. The visions. They were unrelenting.

But when she was able to calm herself, breathing stable and mind quieting down. She noticed that Maxwell and his companions were arguing at the entrance to the building. She stood up on wobbly legs, silently walking up to the group.

From what she heard as she approached, her brother was planning on creating a distraction as everyone got away.

Everything inside of her fought against that very thought.

"NO. You can't!" Liz gritted through her teeth, vision finally focusing. Everything coming crisp, clear. "There has got to be another way."

"If there is, we have no time to think of it." He answered her in a stern tone, "I have to do it."

"Are… are you sure, Maxwell?" Cassandra's face was set, hiding her true thoughts on the matter.

"Yes. Please… take care of my sister for me." He smiled at the Seeker, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. As he turned to walk out of the door, Liz stepped forward to stop him. Only to be held back.

"No. Nono! You can't do this! Stop—" A sharp pain, then black.

The last thing she saw before she was knocked out, was Maxwell's back as he exited the building. Haven, smoldering in the background. As if mocking. Laughing in her face. That everything she ever cared about would be eaten and taken away by the burning force of nature.


	11. Tarasyl'an Te'las

"Tarasyl'an Te'las"

When Liz awoke the next day, it was in pain. Instantaneous pain. Not physical pain, no. But her insides hurt, her chest hurt. Her heart. It was like a hold had opened up and was threatening to swallow her whole.

The young woman sat up quietly, ignoring the prickling feeling in her eyes. Tears were threatening to spill. But she refused. She pushed it all back, into that box. But the image of Maxwell walking away, exiting the Chantry into the bowls of Haven as it burned down flashed into her mind. It took all she had to shake that thought away.

That's when she noticed that the Seeker was sitting inside of the tent with her. A lantern of some sort sat atop a box, bedrolls spread out. The tent was obviously shared by four different people. Including herself. The sky was dark outside, the orange hues of campfires flickered nearby. She winced and looked over at Cassandra, feeling anger surface at the sight of her. Hadn't she been the one to knock her out?

"You." She hissed and rubbed the back of her sore head, "Why… was it you?"

She wasn't sure.

Cassandra shook her head, "I am sorry it had to happen that way. But he made me promise not to let you follow."

Liz bit back any words she was going to say to the woman, feeling guilty. Her gaze flicked to her hands, which clenched the blankets in her lap. She'd only been upholding a promise. Right. It would be just like the man to make someone watch over her. The mage stared down at the scratchy wool blanket that was draped over her legs. Eyes hidden behind her mass of brunette bangs.

"He was … he was a very admirable man." Cassandra said, voice still strong but wobbly. "Don't let his sacrifice be in vain."

Her hand was on the young mage's shoulder as she stared off toward where Haven was supposed to be. Just outside of the tent flap, which was pinned open. Some people passed by, but didn't look inside.

"He wanted me to be there for you." She continued when Liz didn't speak, her gaze blank as she stared outside of the tent. "I understand how you feel, Erin. But you cannot give up just yet."

The young woman got a feeling that she really did understand her situation. If the tone of her voice was anything to go by. In fact, the statement in itself seemed to cause a wave of tears to come back. But she fought against them again. Doing what she usually does. Forget. Ignore.

Her face fell into a blank mask as she lay back down, facing away from the woman. Liz paid no heed to the sad sigh from the warrior as she stood up and left.

She promised. She promised she would keep him safe. Promised Erin that she would look after her brother. But she couldn't even keep that, because of her cowardice. Because of her selfishness.

Liz couldn't even do that right.

 _'What have I done?'_

It should have been her.

* * *

 **Cole**

There were so many people that died at Haven. Most of them had been soldiers, fighting to protect their home. Fighting for what they believed in.

Cole couldn't do enough to ease the pain of a young widow who'd lost her husband in the battle. Her sorrow ran too deep, but he did remind her that part of him was still with her. He'd pointed at her stomach, to which her eyes had widened. She hadn't known.

When he left, she didn't remember him. But she still felt it. Hope. A sliver of light, planted within her. It wasn't enough to stop the pain. But it did help, nonetheless. That had to be enough.

He'd led two soldiers together. Lost on the battlefield, they hadn't known if their best friend had survived. Wracked with survivor's guilt, the two held onto one another like a lifeline. Relief.

Most of his time had been near the healer's tents, easing the woes of the men and women. Occasionally children. The thought caused the spirit's shoulders to slump. Children that had lost a parent. Sometimes both. One had even seen his little brother die.

Everything seemed to filter into the young man, causing his shoulders to sag lower and lower as he skittered around the camp. It was like a weight had settled on his shoulders.

But then Maxwell had survived. He knew, because he could see his light far beyond the crest of the mountain that night. The moons were high into the sky, offering a clear view of the stumbling young man. A branch held in his hands, a makeshift walking stick.

Cole helped carry the young man to the healer's tents, where he was promptly given medical care. The healers and mages that entered the empty tent filed in as he stood in the corner, unseen. Seeing him brought hope. A light within everyone.

Then came Liz, who looked haggard and even more sleep deprived. She stumbled into the tent, eyes wide and unbelieving.

"Max?" She huffed, barely able to catch her breath. Cole could feel the guilt and pain tugging at her chest when she took in his beaten form.

Maxwell's left eye was completely covered in blood, where huge gashes dragged across. From a demon. The rogue could hear the wounds telling him what happened and when. How. Like whispers in the wind. Claws had raked across his face and arm. How he hadn't bled out and died was even a wonder to him.

The other's seemed to have the same thought, horror written on their features as they stared down at him. Almost unsure of where to start. It was Serana who'd gotten to work first, her small pale hands working around the deepest of his wounds. Her hands glowing with magic.

"He's losing too much blood." The frantic voice of Liz, who was also fighting to stem the bleeding. "Serana, please. Do you know how to-"

Maxwell coughed and began to shake, his lone eye rolled back. A shocked gasp exited Liz's lips, the color draining from her features. Her hands moved away from his wounds and to his neck, then his wrist. What she was looking for wasn't there, because the dread that settled in her gut told him otherwise.

"Wh-what's going on?!" Serana squeaked, but didn't cease what she was doing. Trying to knit his wounds together.

"No _nono_. He's going into cardiac arrest." Liz pulled out Cole's brass dagger from her belt and cut at the young man's leather straps, yanking off his armor. From there she began to press her hands on his chest. Counting underneath her breath. "Serana, tilt his head up and pinch his nose. Breathe into his mouth when I say so."

The elf stuttered for a second, but jumped into action.

"Now!" She paused and Serana began breathing for him. Cole stood, frozen. Shaking. Shouldn't he jump in and try to help? Shouldn't he-

Liz began pushing on his chest again and Cole could only watch. He didn't know anything about being a healer. He fidgeted, pulling at his hand wraps. Maxwell wasn't moving. His song sounded distant, fading. He could feel Liz trying to grasp at him, reaching out but he was slipping through her fingers. Like water.

"It's… not working." Serana sounded so small, guilt. Fear. It rolled off of her, _'I could… I could, I should … but...'_

"It will work." Liz hissed, once again using Cole's dagger to rip what remained of his shirt off of him. His bare chest stared back at her, "Scoot back."

' _This better work.'_ He heard Liz say to herself, _'Please please...'_

She placed her fingertips on his chest. One hand on the upper part and one on the bottom, right next to his heart. Her hands glowed a bright purple, blue crackling. It hummed and popped. Maxwell's body convulsed, back arching as she pushed her storm magic into him.

She was holding back, trying not to hurt him. She put her finger on his neck. Nothing.

Not enough.

She tried again.

"What in the Maker's name are you doing, girl?!" Adan yelled, angry. He was about to pull her away, but Cole grabbed him. Holding him back. "Get off of me!"

"She knows what she's doing." He tried to offer, but the old man kept struggling.

With what felt like centuries was merely seconds, maybe minutes. The eldest Trevelyan began to breathe, his eye flying back open. Frantic, taking in the sight of the tent.

Serana popped up, forcing a potion down his throat. Her pale gaze snapped up to Cullen, who had been standing still at the tent flap the whole time. "Get them out of here."

She waved off some passerby's who had crowded just outside of the tent. It had been the first time he saw Serana look so stern. Cole watched as the commander turned and pushed the people out of the tent that didn't belong there.

That's when the white haired elf's body began to glow, her pale eyes glowing a bright blue. Her hair framed her face, shielding much it from Liz and Adan. But Cole saw.

The light extended from her body and onto Maxwell, who was laying there having a hard time breathing. It enveloped him, hugging him. Knitting flesh together and stopping most of the bleeding. He watched the skin close completely in some places. Bruises melted into his skin and seemingly disappeared.

The silhouette of a human figure seemed to blur with Serana's body as she concentrated, her mouth moving. As if talking. A bright white shadow, barely there. Inside of her. Cole's eyes widened when it turned and looked up at him. It smiled.

Serana had a _friend_! Her friend was helping her. He didn't know how or why, but this spirit. _Hope_ , he heard it relay, helped Serana. It seemingly reached out to Cole, part of it caressing him and he practically beamed in return.

It was saying hi!

* * *

The trek up into the Frostbacks was harsh. Cole couldn't feel the same things they felt, so thus he didn't feel exhaustion or cold. But he tried to help in whatever ways he could. Giving out spare blankets he'd found and leaving them in their tents. Feeding the animals when they'd been forgotten, usually in favor of caring for people.

Or, even smaller things like leaving an inkwell that he'd found next to Varric's pack so that he could write. Since he'd lost his during the attack. Among other things. The poor man had also lost loads of notes for his new book. Cole couldn't help with that.

They were distraught, though hopeful. _'The Herald of Andraste returned!'_ They all looked to him in wonder. Awe. He witnessed how much one person could accomplish. One person, who could rally them all and make such a huge difference.

One day, Cole wished he could do that for people.

Though there were also parts of the trip that were difficult on Cole, himself. Pieces of his past, pulling—painful as the memories surfaced. It had come unbidden, raking at his insides when he happened upon one of the healer's tents. He saw a bloodied elven mage, battered from battle. Wanting nothing but for it all to be done. He could hear the pain ringing like a bell, calling to him.

Then it was like he was back in The Pit, standing over a helpless young mage. Knife in hand. Cole shook his head and pulled at the ends of his blonde locks, willing the image away.

Nono. No. He was different now. He wasn't that. He would never _be_ that.

Or the time he saw a templar in his full armor, standing near the animals. His insides had instinctively clenched at the sight. As if on reflex, he'd willed himself out of sight.

So he'd gone off somewhere alone and sat, thinking on it. Wondering why it all still seemed to stick to him, like a stain that never washed out. He looked to the darkened sky, wanting nothing to do with his past life. Clouds rolled in over the mountains, slowly becoming bigger. Telling him that they were going to get more snow.

"Mreow." The sound of a cat came from beside him and broke him out of his musings. Cole turned his head, seeing the same cat that had been trailing after him at Haven all those times.

"Hello." He spoke, smiling at the grey tabby. The rogue bent over and picked it up, feeling the softness of it's fur beneath his fingers. When he began to run his hands along the cat and pet it, his distressed thoughts seemed to melt away. All of this, simply because he focused on the cat.

Intelligent green eyes looked up at him, it's ear flicked back as it tilted it's head. The cat's chest vibrated, purring as it sat on his lap.

"Oooh! A kitty!" A child cooed from his left. Cole's head whipped in their direction, seeing a few of them approach and gather around it.

"I love kitties! What's his name, mister?"

He didn't put up a fight as the eldest girl in the group grabbed the cat and began to turn it around. She lifted the cat's legs and examined it underneath. The girl couldn't have been more then ten years old at most. She scrunched her nose down at the young boy and put one of her hands on her hip.

"It's a _her_ you doof." She stuck her tongue out at the two young boys. The grey tabby simply hung in the ten year old's grip, body flopping limply. "Can I show her to my friends, mister?"

Her eyes were big and watery, begging him to say yes. Cole, hesitantly, nodded. Knowing that they would take care of the cat.

They cheered and passed the cat around, hugging her and giving her attention. As they walked away, Cole could have sworn he saw the grey tabby _glare_ at him. Disdain filtering off of her as she was dragged off by a gaggle of children.

The young rogue's eyes widened, realization striking him like a bolt of lightning. Was that?

Cole bit his lip, fighting back a smile as he turned to walk away. It had been Liz. He wondered why the cat seemed odd. It was watching him, constantly. Almost as if waiting for him to make a bad decision.

In some way, Cole was glad that Liz would watch so closely over him. Making sure he didn't slip up and revert to his old ways. At least he knew if Liz was there, he wouldn't hurt people. She would stop him and kill him if he ever did.

He took relief in that fact.

If she wanted her cat form to remain a secret, he would keep it so. He was, afterall, good at keeping secrets. Kind of. Cole acted oblivious as he went off to do his own business. He was good at that. People tended to think he didn't know much, that he was naive. But he never corrected them.

He knew he didn't know much about the world. Being as odd as it was, to him. But he was far from naive.

Just… different.

* * *

Days later, he stumbled upon Liz finally making friendly conversation with someone. He knew that she had been having a hard time connecting with anyone on a more personal level. So he sat and observed, wondering what could have prompted it.

"…..to apologize for being short with you back then."

"It is quite alright. I understand that it came out of nowhere." He answered as he dug around in his pouch as the two sat at the fire, "Your fear is unfounded, however. I would never breach upon your privacy without first asking permission."

Liz rose an eyebrow, "So it is possible for mages to enter another's dreams?"

"Quite rare, but yes. It is one of my many skills." Solas confirmed, pulling out a book that he'd been meaning to read since finding it at Haven. He set it upon his lap and sighed, looking up at the young mage. "Serana theorized that perhaps demons were haunting your dreams. That is why she asked for my assistance."

"Well … I appreciate the concern, but I think I can handle it myself."

Solas didn't seem at all worried when he nodded to the woman. Cole tilted his head to the side, feeling his hair shift across the bridge of his nose. There was something there. He knew something about the girl, but… the more he pushed the more it seemed to dance out of his grasp.

"Now it's Serana's turn." Liz crossed her arms, pointedly not looking at the fire in front of them. Everytime she did, the nervousness in her eyes seemed to surface. "She hasn't been sleeping this whole time. The woman's a worry wort."

Solas chuckled, "Yes, it seems she puts the wellbeing of others above her own." His brows knitted and Cole could feel the worry roiling inside of him, before it disappeared. As if it'd never been there, "I fear I may have to force her asleep if it continues."

"Is there… a spell for that?" Liz asked hesitantly, "Because if there is, would you mind teaching it to me? There are quite a few stubborn patients of mine that refuse bedrest when they need it."

The two continued to talk as they sat around the fire. He could tell that Liz found the man interesting, his knowledge of the fade drawing her in. Something inside of her hoping to learn more. Hoping for something… reaching. She was remembering something that brought her pain. Cole focused, trying to pull at the threads. His eyes scrunching from his spot near a tent, out of view.

His eyes widened as he caught snippets of a memory. Images, flashing before his eyes. Tall buildings that flew passed the clouds. Carts that ran without horses. A place without magic. Humans. So many humans. Paintings that moved and spoke. Skyscraper. Vehicle. Television. Home.

Unknown words filtered through, but their meaning rang true. Cole stared at Liz with wide uncomprehending eyes.

He knew Liz wasn't Erin, but he'd thought she was like him. But she wasn't? Or was she? None of it made sense to the spirit. No matter how much he asked, nothing came back. Usually there were whispers, but being so far away from her made it harder.

The images had stopped once she put a lid on her pain, making it impossible to see.

Cole frowned, pulling at the ends of his sleeves. The woman was not from this world. Much like Solas. Both of them felt a sort of disconnect with the people from this world. Though Liz's was less so, because she felt great pain and guilt for not being able to save the lives she's seen extinguished. He knew that much, at least.

Perhaps Cole could try to help find a way back to her world? He wasn't sure how to go about that, though.

"Where are we headed?" Liz had spoken up, "I hadn't the time to ask anyone until now."

"Yes, I saw it in a dream. Tarasyl'an Te'las." The bald elf looked off into the distance, seemingly toward where they were headed.

"What does that mean?" She asked, getting a curious look from the elf.

"Skyhold. Or, more specifically, 'the place where the sky is kept'." He elaborated for her, watching her expression carefully. Observing.

"Miigwetch." She said, causing Solas to appear even more confused. She translated, "It means thank you in … a language I learned a long time ago."

It meant thank you in her language. He heard. Her language from Earth. Where was Earth? Was that her home?

"It is not a language I've heard in my travels." Solas tilted his head and Liz shrugged, once again brushing away the pain.

"I should probably get going, though. Maxwell's bandages probably need to be redressed." She just wanted to get away from him. Not wanting to think about her home. Cole felt sadness for her. "Thank you for talking with me."

"Until next time." He nodded and Liz smiled down at him, brushing the snow off of her furs.

"Giga-waabaminim minowaa, niij." She finished, then translated. "I will see you later, my friend." _'My people didn't believe in goodbyes. Eh, it's a close enough translation.'_

"Dareth shiral." He answered, "Farewell, or, safe journey."

"I like that one."

Solas smiled.

* * *

It'd taken them a week to get to Skyhold. The harsh conditions having been too much for many, as people had perished on their way there.

Cole was walking along the lower courtyard when he saw Serana crying outside of one of the healer's tents. Her hands were buried in her hands, long silvery locks shielding her face from the world. Solas was seated nearby, his hand on her back and rubbing calming circles. He spoke in a low tone that he couldn't hear, but he knew that he was comforting her.

The young elf had been going through a lot, trying to keep everyone safe under her care. But even with the help of her friend, Hope, it had been too much. Her body was beginning to break down. She needed the sleep. She was only mortal, afterall.

So Cole wandered, exploring the old debilitated interior of Skyhold fortress. It was absolutely massive when they'd first entered the courtyards and it was absolutely massive on the inside. Vines and undergrowth burst into the main hall, completely untamed. It seemed warmer inside of the walls of Skyhold. Almost unnaturally so. The whole place sang with magic, which was practically embedded into the very foundation of the place.

He could tell just by looking at it, when it was in it's glory it was a beautiful place. A refuge. And when he concentrated, he could even _see_ it. Pulling at the memories that shifted around in the place. He saw and got an idea of what kind of potential it had.

Solas was unpacking later that day in the rotunda, which was covered in rubble and old furniture. Vines were sprouting through the railings atop, dangling all the way down into the first floor. The bald mage pushed the vines out of the way as he entered the place, a look of nostalgia in his eyes.

Dorian and a few of the mages set up in the library above. Josephine was ordering new things and getting pointers from Vivienne and Maxwell about what to get ordered and where to put it all. Iron Bull and Sera were cleaning out the building they'd dubbed the Herald's Rest, boasting about the kinds of parties they could throw in the huge tavern.

Soon after establishing it as a tavern, the Chargers had jumped in to help with much enthusiasm.

Cole knew that he could help them all. He has in the past, though they could not remember. Nor did they see him, at times. It was only Sera and Liz that wouldn't allow him to. Sera, because helping her only seemed to make things worse. So he usually made her forget afterward. Kind of like the time when he helped put a bee's nest into a dummy. Why she wanted to do that was beyond him.

But Liz… she never forgot about him. Even after all the time they were separated. He couldn't hide from her even now and it made him a little uneasy. She was kind of like Rhys, once he thought about it. His old friend never forgot about him. Though he never tried to make him forget.

She was harder to listen to than the others. Seemingly cutting him off without really knowing it. Cole could only hear her when they were close, like when he held her as a cat. Or when her pain was strong, sorrow—suffering silently. She didn't want anyone to know. Knowing meant death.

So he found himself in her room, which was where Maxwell was going to also be. The Inquisitor's room, which held many of their things. Liz had insisted on having her own space, but couldn't win that debate.

What had been dubbed as 'The Inquisitor's Room' was now 'The Trevelyan Quarters'. Their rooms branched off of the main room, which held a fireplace and two balconies. What originally had been closets, were now entrances to their to-be bedrooms.

But there was still a dresser that was intact amongst all of the rubble and ruined furniture. One that Liz used to stash her things.

So the rogue found himself shuffling through her dresser in hopes to find something. Maybe a journal or anything that she connected to. Perhaps to imprint her feelings and thoughts into that he could latch onto and learn to help her better.

Because Maker, the woman needed it.

* * *

 **Liz**

The young mage was headed upstairs to her shared space with her brother. The place they shared, as of now, was littered with vines and scattered wood from broken furniture. But from the size of it, once it was finished it would look amazing. Of that she was sure. She was hesitant to admit that she loved the view of Skyhold that the balconies offered.

The mage huffed as her small feet padded up the stone steps, the door clicking shut behind her quietly. It was midday, causing the sun to send daggers of sunlight into the room. Dust motes fluttered around in the slivers of sunlight.

Liz heard something shuffling around in the room, causing her to pause near the top of the stairs. Perhaps it was a rat? A shadow moved around in front of her dresser on the other side of the door. The door to which was her 'to-be' room.

So, not a rat.

The young woman crept up to it, staff held like a club. She wriggled her toes against the cold stone, _'And who might this be, I wonder? You dare rummage around in my things.'_

The last thought caused a wave of irritation to ripple through her and she could have sworn she saw the shadow freeze.

She popped out, swinging her wooden staff like a club. It hit it's mark with a resounding, _**'Crack!'**_

"Yeowch!" The staff hit home, right on the back of the intruders head as their hat went fluttering to the ground.

Wait. Hat?

"That hurt!"

"Cole?" Liz blinked incredulously, "Why... Why are you..."

He turned around, something clutched in his hand as he bowed his head sheepishly.

"I was trying to find a way to help. You're so hard to hear and-" He went to cross his arms but paused and looked curiously at the object in his hand. Said object being...

Liz sighed and pinched her nose, "Alright. So I still have no idea why you're in my room." She then pointed at a pair of her underwear, which was dangling innocently in between his fingertips. "Or why you're shuffling around through my underwear drawer?"

The lanky rogue was scratching the back of his head where she'd nailed him with her staff. Fingers scratching at his stringy blonde hair. His brows scrunched as he took in her question.

"Your under-" His wide blue eyes flicked from the object in his free hand toward Liz, then back to the object. She could have sworn his face turned red, "Underwear. Y-yes. I-I-"

He skittered back and turned away before she could actually even confirm what kind of expression he was making. Perhaps it was the lack of light?

"Well, now that you're here I suppose I could tell you that my brother was looking for you."

"I know."

"If you knew, why were you digging through my drawers? Looking for a good luck token?" She snarked, getting a squeak out of the man. She simply stood there with her arms crossed, foot tapping on the stone. "Now go."

He didn't need to be told twice, it seemed. The man disappeared in a poof of smoke, a shimmering form skittering off down the steps. Liz squinted, wondering how it was that rogues did that.

Maxwell had informed her that they would depart soon. And that there was something he was going to ask her to do. She'd come up to grab a few things he'd forgotten in his haste to scramble around Skyhold. Now that he was Inquisitor, it seemed there wasn't much time for him to do things on his own.

She sighed and grabbed the man's bag, hauling the thing downstairs and through the overgrown interior of Skyhold. Once she'd weaved her way through the people and rubble, she found herself in the lower courtyard surrounded by Maxwell and the team he'd assembled.

The horses were saddled up, their tails swishing lazily as their owners sat atop them. They were calmly waiting for their Inquisitor to finish talking to the commander.

It was a rather big party, she saw. Which she came to understand would be split into two groups.

Liz walked up to Cullen, blinking confusedly when he handed her a piece of paper to look over. She stared at it, hoping her eyes wouldn't cross as she attempted to read the symbols.

Maxwell and Cullen were talking about what needed to be done in Skyhold and what the troops would be doing. Who would be stationed where, etc. The Inquisitor would have to know of these things, afterall. Liz rolled her eyes as he turned to her.

"There were a few things that I've set for you to overlook while I am gone. Do you think you can handle them in my stead?" He asked, his expression slowly turning blank as he stared down at the paper that Liz held.

He sighed and walked forward, flipping the piece of paper upside down.

Or, rather, right side up.

Liz had been holding it upside down. Her face flushed in embarrassment. She tried to ignore the expression that Varric had, like he was holding back his laughter. But little snorts could be heard from the other side of his hand. Cassandra was looking down at her from atop her horse, brow raised.

Liz coughed, "R-Right, of course. Got it." She lied, "Is this all?"

"Yes. It's all there… written down. I'm sure we won't be gone more than a week at most. So you should be fine." He seemed almost hesitant before turning to address the others.

Liz looked down at the piece of paper, thinking.

' _Aw, shit.'_

Evidently they were to travel to the nearby towns to establish reputation with them and get some trade deals settled. Since their new 'base of operations' was to be Skyhold, these things were needed. With the help of some of Josephine's connections, it wouldn't prove to be much of an issue.

"Where is the Kid?" Varric interjects.

"Who cares where Creepy is. Lets just go!" Sera's horse turned around and walked toward the gate. Liz remembered seeing him hanging out up the stairs a ways. Her eyebrow twitched, remembering how she'd told him to come down here as per request of her brother. He, obviously, had a hard time listening to orders.

"I'll go get him. He may have gotten distracted on his way here." Liz informs before she turns to walk away.

"Good luck, Sunny. Stay safe."

"Likewise." She waves it off as she goes up the staircase.

So she was stuck, yet again, weaving through people as they moved about the fortress. Much of the place was crowded with boxes and tents. Some of the scouts skittered by, holding long wood beams to make scaffoldings.

Liz peered around, feeling her hair whip around as she looked for the slippery rogue.

'It's funny. When I don't want to see him, he's there. But now that I actually need him, he's gone.' She snorted to herself, leaning around a corner. 'Ah! There you are.'

She spotted him standing next to a tent behind the Herald's Rest.

"Cole, what are you doing...?" Liz murmured as she approached quietly. The rogue was crouched near the tent and slowly turned to look at the mage. Only for his blank expression to falter as he took a step back.

"Watching- I..." He stuttered nervously, causing Liz to raise her eyebrow in suspicion.

She heard, what sounded like rattling and a cot squeaking. When her brain fully caught up to the situation, the mage felt a blush form on her stoic face as it spread all the way to the tips of her ears.

Cole was peeping. Peeping on people-

A muffled moan split through the air, only adding to the awkwardness of the situation.

Liz let out an exasperated sigh that threatened to crack the world apart, her hand flying to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"No... Cole, no." She grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the tent, the young man put up no resistance as they rounded the corner.

"No?"

"No. You're not supposed t-" she sighed again, wondering why on earth she happened to be associated with a closet pervert. "You're not supposed to watch people do that. It's private."

"I've done it before. But… she was hurt, then not."

Liz choked on any words she may have been about to say, the blush on her face darkening.

"N-No! I've _watched_ before, it's not-" He stuttered when Liz stopped suddenly, looking up at the gangly man with an incredulous look on her face. "It hurt. Pain pulling—pushing. Then pleasure. Blooming like a beautiful flower. She gave him something special. She gave him _her_."

"Cole!" She squeaked, feeling embarrassed for the poor couple.

"S-Sorry!" He practically whined, "I was … _concerned_. Templars have done bad things to the mages before. But this wasn't that. She _loves_ him."

So a templar and a mage? Liz stared, mouth agape. He'd been watching to make sure it wasn't … Oh, okay. Right. Still. She really didn't want to know what poor unfortunate souls had the displeasure of doing the dirty around the rogue in the past.

On account of the fact that he was usually invisible or unseen to others, Liz doubted he was ever caught in the act until now.

"J-Just go. Go gogo. They're waiting on you." She swatted at his shoulder, wrestling to keep the blush from remaining on her face.

He paused and looked at her for a moment, eyes concentrating. He spoke in an ominous tone, "The Hawke caws at dawn."

She rose a brow, _'What… hawk? Is he trying to warn me about something?'_

Liz shook her head and waved him off.

* * *

 **Cole**

He knew she didn't know how to read. It was one of her insecurities that hindered her everyday life. She lied about it, too full of pride to ask for help. So he tried to offer insight.

The paper in her pocket whispered to him, telling him what it was trying to say to her.

Maxwell had told her to be there when Varric's friend, Hawke, arrived. Apparently the dwarf had informed him before leaving, not wanting his friend to be left alone not knowing what to do. So, in turn, he'd entrusted his welcome to Liz.

But Liz didn't know this. So Cole took it upon himself to tell her, himself.


	12. Failure is Part of the Lesson

"Failure is Part of the Lesson"

The young woman wiped the sweat from her brow with a cloth she kept in her pouch. Jade was still laying on the healing cot, being tended to by both Serana and Liz. Occasionally Adan would come in to check on her when either of them were busy.

As far as the pecking order in the medical unit went, Serana and Liz were both pretty low. Being as young as they were, none of the older and more experienced members really took them seriously. That was slowly starting to change, however. Ever since Liz had 'revived' Maxwell from the brink of death, she'd been getting quite a few questions from Adan and the surgeon both.

She sighed and focused on the dwarf. The woman had taken quite the hit during the battle as they fled to the Chantry. Unfortunately it'd been from an arrow in the right thigh. It'd gotten infected on their way to Skyhold the week following, which wasn't a surprise. Arrow wounds infected easily. Her long black hair draped over the side of the cot, her breathing elevated.

She'd just broken out of her fever. The infection hadn't truly set in until a few days ago, when she decided to overwork herself in her haste to get to the fortress.

The woman was damn stubborn, that's what. At least Liz and Adan could both agree on that fact. It wouldn't have gotten as bad as it did if she'd told them about it in the first place. They only knew until the day she wouldn't wake up in her bedroll.

"D-Do you think she will be okay?" Serana was the one who asked. Despite her fidgety nature, her hands were still and fluid in their movements while cleaning Jade's wound.

Speaking of fidgety. She'd been oddly fidgety since they arrived. Once she was finished cleaning, the younger mage took over and began dressing it. Liz looked at her and nodded, "Just make sure to keep the wounds cleaned. No one is allowed to touch her unless they've washed their hands and forearms thoroughly, am I clear?"

"Y-Yes." The chubby elf nodded, practically bowing as she turned and walked out of the tent.

Most of them were situated near the entrance to the fortress, in the lower courtyard. The sounds of people moving around and hammers clanging could be heard just outside. It'd only been a few days and it was already starting to come along quite nicely.

Once finished, she stepped outside and took in the crisp air. She let it fill her lungs, trying to ignore the faint smell that tainted the air. The coppery smell of blood and infection still seemed to stick in her nosehairs from the tents.

Scrunching her nose, she stepped away and was intent on walking up the stairs to get a bite to eat. Until she saw her anxious friend talking to an odd man at the entrance to the fortress.

Liz didn't like the way the scruffy looking man looked at Serana as she skittered back toward the tents. Her normally pale complexion was beet red, eyes wide. The black haired man looked at the elf's round rump as she waddled away in haste. She squinted at him and he seemed to take notice of her staring. He smirked at her, too. She just shook her head and scoffed.

"Hey, are you okay there?" The mage stopped the elf, putting her hand on her shoulder. Serana stopped and nodded.

"It's o-okay. I-I was just making sure he d-didn't need any healing. H-He's fine."

"Who is that?"

"H-Hawke." Serana's fingers tapped together shyly, refusing to meet Liz's eyes. Liz's eyes narrowed at the sound of the name. She leaned forward and whispered to Liz, so no one else could hear. "H-He said he t-thought I was c-c- _cute_."

She squeaked that last part. Almost like she couldn't believe it.

The young Trevelyan's gaze traveled up, observing the man warily. Was this what Cole was warning her about?

She shook her head and shrugged it off. It was just a random guy, no big deal. She cracked her neck and went back to work, making sure their workstations were clean. All thoughts about food forgotten.

Adan seemed almost peeved whenever she set off to do that and even the surgeon didn't like her touching her things. But once she'd explained that dirty utensils caused infection, they seemed to back off. If only a little. They still shot her glares.

* * *

By the end of the day, she was starting to get worn out. Her bare feet settled on the grass as she stood at the bottom of the staircase, her arms stretching as she let out a groan. The sky was beginning to turn an orange hue and the residents were beginning to retreat to their respective tents. Some of the luckier ones already had their rooms within the fortress cleared out, so they went there.

Liz sighed, stretching her legs as she looked up at the upper courtyard. The Herald's Rest was going to be opening, soon. They were just getting the furniture sorted out and the stuff delivered. Said items would probably be here once Maxwell established trades with the nearby towns.

Then she turned, looking at the entrance of Skyhold. She saw him. Hawke.

 _He was still there._

' _Who the hell are you?'_ She questioned, eying him suspiciously. His smiling demeanor had since diminished, a scowl in it's place. He was leaning against the gate, arms crossed as he seemed to look around. As if looking for something.

She could just ask around from Maxwell's friends and see if any of them knew him. Problem solved, right?

Wrong.

Almost 20 minutes of her jogging around the fortress in search of a free person, there was none. Josephine, the ambassador, was so piled in paperwork it was unreal. The spymaster was nowhere to be found. Anyone else had gone with Maxwell and split into groups to scout the nearby areas.

So Liz stood near the tents again, at a loss.

But then she saw a beacon of hope. A familiar face. In the barn, cleaning up his workstation, was Blackwall. The Grey Warden had started to carve something at the large table, having nothing to do. He'd been left behind in favor of helping Commander Cullen, if need be.

The young mage trotted in his direction, taking in his gruff appearance as he stood in front of his workshop.

"Blackwall?" She asked, tilting her head and watching him finish up some detailing on the large chunk of wood. It looked like a slab at the moment, but from what she'd seen back on Earth. Woodworkers were rather good at making intricate and sometimes beautiful carved sculptures.

"Hrrmmph?" He grunted, turning to look down at the short woman. His fluffy eyebrow rose in question, "Did you need something, Erin?"

"Yes, actually. You don't happen to know who that is just … sitting near the gate, do you?" She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the suspicious man leaning against the gate. "Because he's just been sitting there all day, scoping the place out."

The Warden didn't even need to lean to the side to see, he simply stared above Liz's head and looked at the irritated man.

"I've never seen 'em before." He muttered, his mustache moving as he spoke. His calloused hand came up and he began to run his fingers through his massive beard.

Honestly, this was the first time she'd been up close to the man. She could tell he had sleeping issues, due to the bags underneath his eyes. Much like her own. He had the look of a man that had seen and done one too many things. Something she, herself, had gone through.

Which was to be expected from a Grey Warden, she supposed. They had, afterall, endured the Blight. That on it's own was beyond commendable.

"I don't like his face." Liz said simply, turning to look at him. Before she knew it, both of them were peeking around the barn wall in an attempt to remain semi-hidden. Blackwall's head was above her own as they squinted in his direction.

"I don't like the look he's got, either. Looks like 'es scoping the place out." His grumbling voice sounded from above her head, "How long did ya say he was skulking around?"

"All day. He embarrassed Serana when she tried to offer help. He's just been standing there the whole time." Liz bit at her thumbnail, "Hasn't even tried to enter the fortress."

She examined him, looking for potential weaknesses. He was an older looking man, black hair combed off to the side. His facial hair was much like Blackwalls, only trimmed shorter. A red smear ran across the bridge of his nose, making him look almost menacing. Well, in Liz's opinion.

She bit her lip. He was wearing what looked like a heavy spiked pauldron and a breastplate of some sort. It made him look kind of like a warrior or a rogue, but he was carrying… a staff?

A suspicious mage scoping out Skyhold Fortress. They had been attacked by an army of mages that were under control of some guy named the Elder One. Liz didn't want to take any chances.

"I'm going to confront him." She told the Warden, getting a grunt of confirmation.

"Just call for me if things get out of hand." He stepped back, returning to his station. Though she could tell that he was watching her as she stepped out of her 'hiding place' and walked in Hawke's direction.

"You, state your business."

The man had been in the middle of picking his fingernails, a grumpy frown on his face. Then he looked up and it seemingly disappeared and he gave Liz a mock bow.

"And I take it you're… the Inquisitor? Well, you're certainly … shorter than I imagined." His hand came up and he 'measured' her, hand flicking from her head to his own. Liz's eye twitched. It wasn't her fault she was stuck in such a stunted body.

"No." She ground out, uncrossing her arms. Hawke stared down at her chest and looked up at her face, then back at her chest. He then raised his brow in confusion.

"Forgive me, I thought you were a young man there for a second. Do you bind them or are they naturally that small?" He asked, almost innocently.

In what seemed like a split second, the young mage grabbed her staff and swung it at his head like a bat. Normally such comments didn't irritate her. As a matter of fact, the woman didn't really care if they thought her male or female. It was his condescending tone and lack of respect that got to her.

Add onto the fact that the man was suspicious in the first place and likely an enemy in disguise. Although a horrid disguise.

Liz's eyes widened when the black haired man easily countered her swing, knocking the staff out of her hands and casually tossing it behind him.

"Now. Would you mind going and fetching someone in charge?" He continued, this time poking her in the side. "I've been waiting here all day and I'm absolutely famished."

"Not until you tell me why you've been lurking around here like a damned cockroach." She shot back through clenched teeth. Cole's warning flashing through her mind. If he knew about Hawke, then he must have known he was here to hurt people. He wouldn't give her a warning without reason, right?

"Aren't you just the cutest thing." His hands came up to pinch her cheek. She let him. Oh, she let him. His fingers grabbed her cheek and pulled, shaking her head back and forth. It was then that she let electricity wrap around her body, her skin feeling the familiar sensation of static buzzing. Then it connected with Hawke, sending a massive jolt through his body.

He convulsed and shook, teeth chattering, before he fell onto the ground on his rump. Liz crossed her arms and tried her damnedest not to snicker. Because the man's perfectly combed hair was now a frizzy mess as it stood on end.

Once he regained his bearings, his hands went straight to his hair and he let out a horrified gasp.

"What did you do to _my hair?!_ " He shrieked, his smug expression completely gone. Liz couldn't help but feel satisfied with her work. She turned to call for a guard to take him to the cells, but was stopped when she heard a familiar voice in the distance.

"Erin!" Leliana called from behind her, the sound of her boots hitting the ground seemed to get closer. "What do you think you are doing?"

"About to apprehend this suspicious man." She pointed at Hawke, who was just about sobbing as he tried to fix his appearance. "He's been lurking around all day. Didn't you see him?"

She was, afterall, the Spymaster.

The redhead stepped forward, snatching Liz's ear like she was a child. "Ow!"

Leliana hissed, "This is Varric's contact."

Shortly after her comment, Liz could feel her chest go cold. This … this was one of the things Maxwell had tasked her to take care of, wasn't it? Then came Josephine, who looked completely haggard and overworked.

"Garret Hawke, a pleasure to finally meet you." She spoke kindly, holding her hand to help him up.

"Nice welcoming party, I must say." He snarked, accepting the woman's offered hand. It was completely dark by then, the torches on each side of the entrance offering the only illumination. "I was beginning to worry if I'd arrived at the wrong Fortress in the middle of nowhere. Because, you know, there are a lot of those."

"I must apologize for the Inquisitor's sister. She can be quite..." The ambassador struggled for a word.

"She's a feisty one, I'll give her that." He says before she could continue, "Rather _electrifying_ , if I must say so myself."

He snorted at his own joke and Liz felt the need to stab her own ears out.

But that seemed to be the least of her problems. Leliana practically manhandled the small mage and dragged her off into one of the empty towers nearby. She shoved the girl into the room, sending Liz stumbling forward.

"Holy hell you're strong." She grunted, catching herself on the wall and standing up straight. It was dark, almost too dark. The door was cracked, allowing enough light from the outside to see one another. Even so, the Spymaster's shadow seemed ominous as she stood in front of the door. Her steel colored eyes almost seemed to glow in the darkened room from underneath her hood.

"The Inquisitor had entrusted you with his welcoming, had he not?" The spymasters arms waved, almost angrily, as she looked down at Liz in disappointment. "Among other things."

"I uhh … I am not sure." The youngest Trevelyan stumbled on her words, not sure what to say.

"Didn't he give you a list?" She seemed surprised, eyes wide with concern. But Liz felt her hairs stand on end, knowing the expression wasn't genuine. People like her made her feel weird. It's almost like she could _feel_ their insincerity.

Those feelings didn't start until her arrival on this gods forsaken planet, but she chalked it off as mage bullshit. Humans, even animals had that feeling. Like she could almost, if only faintly, sense their intentions.

She twisted her hands together nervously, eyes darting around and taking in the dusty room. Rubble lined the side of the tower, along with what looked like a broken bed.

"He did, but I lost it." She lied, but got a narrowed glare from the redhead. Liz winced, caving and finally saying it out loud, "I can't read."

Leliana ceased her glare, if only for a moment. Her lips curled into a sardonic smirk for a second, like she almost didn't believe it. Then she saw the truth in Liz's eyes. Only then, did she laugh. The Spymaster laughed at Liz. Her laughter filled the empty tower, ringing like a bell. Shame filled her as she looked away.

"B-but how? You grew up in a noble family. Surely you know how to read, of all things?"

"I got into an accident. Some things are a little hazy. Or, maybe, a lot." That time, technically, she was not lying. "I really… I really _can't_..."

The young woman's voice lowered, her head dropping in shame.

"If I told Max, he would probably feel bad. Knowing him, he would feel responsible." Also not a lie. If she told him, he would surely end up finding out she wasn't Erin.

"Oh, Erin." Josephine spoke from the door frame, her hand delicately covering her mouth. It seemed the woman had appeared just in time to hear Liz blurt out the truth. Liz could feel her face turning so red, even her ears felt hot. It didn't help that she didn't know if the Ambassador was covering her mouth to hide a smirk or her horror.

"The reason I didn't say anything was because I didn't want people to know!" She hissed quickly, looking around to see if anyone else heard. She looked outside of the cracked door, only to come face to chest with Hawke. Hawke…. Who was looking down at her with a huge shiteating grin. Like he'd just stumbled across the juiciest blackmail of the century.

"Well well, how about that. A noble that can't read, eh?" He leaned against the doorframe and bent down to Liz's height. So that they were face to face. " _And_ you're the Inquisitor's sister on top of it."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about. Get your ears checked!" She blurted and if her face could get any redder, it would.

" _And_ a bad liar. Tsk tsk. What a shame."

"I-I think …" For once the Ambassador almost seemed at a loss for words. She sighed and pushed a wavy lock behind her ear, gentle smile on her face. "You should see me in my office tomorrow. I'll have something set up for you, Erin."

* * *

And she did. The Ambassador had set her up with someone to teach her how to read and write. She'd asked around and apparently a young elven mage had hopped up at the chance. He looked maybe 18 at most, likely around Erin's age. The kid called himself Silas and was a rather friendly fellow.

' _At least I can practice writing letters to Athras.'_ Her thoughts wandered as she finished redressing Jade's bandages. She grunted, knowing the elderly man would probably laugh at her hand writing. Which would probably look like that of a 5 year old.

"Ya constipated or somethin?" The short woman asked from her spot on the cot. Liz blinked, looking up from her bandages.

"What?"

"Your face. It's all scrunched up like this." She knitted her brows and scrunched her face dramatically, looking every bit like she needed to use the bathroom. Liz frowned, "Yeah, like that!"

"Looks like the infection has passed, you're free to do whatever. Just don't overwork yourself." She ignored Jade's childish antics, putting them off as her odd and sometimes unstable personality.

Liz had, initially, thought that perhaps she was like herself. Someone from Earth. The woman's use of references and odd sayings didn't really go unnoticed by the mage. But that wasn't the case, as odd as it sounded. She'd tested her before the attack on Haven. By saying the word 'Television' and seeing the reaction it got out of her.

The only thing the dwarf had done is tilt her head and ask what that meant.

Liz almost didn't want to believe that it was all merely a coincidence. Since coincidences didn't happen over and over again. She'd, afterall, seen how un-dwarflike she acted.

She sighed and stood up, brushing her furs off as she exited the tent. Silas had been kind enough to read the list to her the day after her mishap. Most of which contained; Greet and help Hawke get settled in, Help make plans for our rooms, and other tasks that included planning for Skyhold.

The fact that she'd screwed up so badly made her more and more nervous as the day of their return neared.

And it did. Inevitably. She found herself standing out on the ramparts with Maxwell, Varric and Hawke. Her brother had his arms crossed, having been briefed by the Spymaster herself upon his arrival. Liz stood there, separate from the three as she hung her head like a scolded child.

She looked up through her mess of hair after he'd told Varric what she'd done. The dwarf was holding in his chuckles, asking Hawke how he was downed by an 18 year old mage.

Hawke defended himself readily, "Hey, I just didn't want to hurt the poor thing."

She saw the mortified look on Maxwell's face through the whole ordeal. He, obviously, hadn't expected his first guest at Skyhold to get toasted by his sister.

She'd gotten scolded. Much like she had when Leliana stopped her from frying the Champion. Yes. He was also the Champion of Kirkwall, the main character from Varric's book. To top it all off. That only seemed to make it worse. She'd remembered the way the eldest Trevelyan's voice had cracked in horror as he explained how dire her blunder had been.

But it wasn't the scolding that'd made the mage feel so bad. It was that she'd embarrassed Maxwell in front of a potential ally. She'd failed.

Even so, after they were done the Inquisitor had sent her off. Telling her that he wanted to meet up with her later that night in the Herald's Rest. Which was now finished. Mostly. But it was open for business, nonetheless.

"Understood." The mage murmured, muttering her apologies as she ambled away from the trio.

* * *

So Liz sat at the Herald's Rest, a huge mug of ale sat in front of her. She leaned back in the rickety stool, letting out a sigh. It'd been a few days already, but she was starting to get fed up with the cheeky grins and looks she was getting from that damned mage. Hawke.

Her eyes twitched at the thought. Especially since said person was seated across the tavern, conversing with a group of people. He was quick to make friends and seemed easy to converse with. From what she'd seen, anyway. The younger Trevelyan had been avoiding him like the plague. Especially since he was aware of her dark secret.

She grumbled from her corner of the loud building. The bard was singing and the whole place was loud, the sounds of laughter and conversations melding together.

"Ya know, yer pretty fat fer an elf." Liz heard from a table nearby, causing her ears to twitch. She peered over, hiding her frown behind her tankard. "Ya sure yer an elf?"

It was an Inquisition soldier, from the looks of it. He was tipsy, his friends seemingly egging him on with their laughter. And the elf in question? Serana. The silver haired woman stared down at him with a red face, her hands pressed against her chest.

The man reached out and pulled her toward him, trying to set her in his lap. She pushed him away and stood up, skittering backwards. "I-I-I ha-have somewhere to b-be."

The poor woman had no backbone. Liz felt irritation itch at her insides as she saw the soldier stand up. His dirty hands moved up, attempting to push away the elf's hair to reveal her ear. His lips moved, but the young mage couldn't make out what he'd said to Serana.

But from the look on her face, it wasn't something very nice. She looked like she'd gotten hit as she flinched back, eyes wide.

"Please s-ser, you're too close." She said much louder this time, tears pricking the edges of her eyes.

"Aw, come on Hun. Bet a knife-ear like you wouldn't mind goin' out onna date with me, hmm?"

Liz gritted her teeth, feeling a jolt of protectiveness for her friend. She could even spot Jade in the background standing in the doorway, a plate of food in her hands. The young mage could practically hear the blood boiling as the black haired dwarf clenched her free hand.

But before the she could get to it, Liz turned to the belligerent man and focused on his pants.

Now, she'd only dabbled a little bit with force magic. So she'd either end up doing what she intended or ripping them to shreds altogether. She had once tried to pick up a small animal with force magic. It didn't turn out so pretty…

She didn't have her staff to use to focus her mana, but she held out her hand and pointed at the man. Concentrating, imagining what she wanted to do. Her brows knit together, the familiar feel of her mana pooling in her stomach on her command. She let it extend outward, only for it to flicker and buzz erratically.

The soldier let out a girlish squeal as his pants burst into tatters. Liz cursed underneath her breath, having meant to simply pants him and embarrass him.

' _I mean… he_ did _get embarrassed, so at least I accomplished my goal?'_ She shrugged, watching him scramble for an empty bowl at his table to cover his bits. His friends were howling with laughter, their hands slamming onto the surface in a rowdy fashion. She could hear their jeering taunts at his failure, calling him an idiot.

The commotion attracted even more attention. Even the bard had stopped playing her music. The soldier's face was completely red as he stood there in only a tunic. He clasped the bowl with both hands, looking at Serana accusingly.

"You bitch! You did this to me!" He pointed at Serana, though made no move to assault her. Especially now that Jade was standing beside her. The dwarf's cackles roared through the confines of the tavern.

"Holy cripes, what're ya doin without yer breeches?!" Sera howled and pointed from her perch on the second floor, making things even worse.

"T-the knife ear! Wen-"

"It was me." Liz's flat tone cut off his rant, causing the man to sputter. She stood up from her place on the stool, setting down her tankard almost a little too roughly. Nearly everyone in Skyhold knew her as the Inquisitors brother/sister (depending on how observant they were). This man was no different. "It seems you will be cleaning the barracks for the next month, soldier. I expected more from Inquisition troops."

The man paled and his friends simply quieted down, though their snickers could still be heard. They, obviously, knew he was being a dumbass. Liz fully intended to make sure he got punished for such behavior. By making an example out of him, people would know that it was unacceptable to act that way.

His mouth opened and closed, like a child that had gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "You will be hearing from Commander Cullen later today. Dismissed."

He didn't have anything else to say after that, as he bolted toward the door with his pale buttocks plainly in view for all to see.

Jade called out to him, "You can keep the bowl!" She snorted, "Dumbass."

"T-thanks, Erin." Serana stuttered, bowing to the woman in appreciation.

"Yeah! Thanks to the lovely Erin here the next round is on me!" Jade whooped happily, getting a cheer out of the crowd. Things started back up, then. The lull of activity faded into the background.

"You know, if you hadn't done anything I'm sure short stock here would have skinned the poor bastard." A familiar and irritating voice sounded from behind the two. Liz glared up at Hawke, who had his hands on his hips.

"Did you just call me fat?" Jade accused, pointing her chubby finger up at the smug looking human.

He put his hand on his chest dramatically, "Me? No. I'd never."

Before the two could begin having a sass-off, Liz spoke up. She looked to Serana, who was fidgeting nervously. "If anyone gives you trouble again, let me know."

She nodded with a grateful smile.

"You did good! I didn't even know you had it in you." Jade gave Liz a thumbs up, "Little shit deserved it, and more. I hate people like that."

"Yer tellin' me, tha bastard's been harassing the kitchenmaids for weeks." Sera added from above, her body leaning over the second floor railing. Liz pointedly didn't look up at the woman, "Had a lil somethin' planned for the shite head."

"I'll be sure to include that in my report to the commander." She spoke, but still doesn't look up to see the likely scrunched face of the elf. With that, she turned on her heel and walked away.

The door opened, revealing a confused looking Maxwell and an amused Varric.

"Alright, who stole the poor man's pants?" Liz went to sit down at her table, seeing the three already pointing at her. Varric laughed, patting her on the shoulder as he passed by. "Good job, Sunny. You really showed him."

"Don't you think that you went a little too far, though?" Maxwell asked.

"Naaah, she's fine." Varric was still grinning as he walked off in the direction of his friend, Hawke. She watched them greet one another jovially, the human slapping a tankard in the dwarf's hand and leading him off to his table. She sighed, hand under her chin as she looked over at Max.

He sat down and let out a grunt, his lone eye looking at his sister. His face was marred with scars on one side of his face, his eye completely blind due to the attack from the demon. He didn't seem to let that slow him down, though. He scratched his goatee in thought.

"I'm sorry. About earlier, I mean." Liz stared down at her tankard with a deep frown. The man sighed and leaned back.

"You have to learn somehow. Failure is part of the lesson. That's what dad told me, anyway." He shrugged, "But I'm sure you know that."

It didn't go unnoticed by Liz how he seemed to eye her arm warmers, again. Those were the only major scars he'd seen on her body. He had yet to see her torso…

Everytime he did, though, it looked as though he wanted to ask. Wanted to know. But he never asked how she got the scars. Or what happened. Almost like he was afraid of what he would hear. Not that she would ever tell him, that is. If he knew… he might shun her.

The fact that no one had said anything about her escape kind of baffled her. She knew that Leliana probably had a hand in that. The woman always seemed to keep a wary eye on the young woman. She was just wondering when the questions would begin to pop up.

After she'd eaten dinner with Maxwell, she went off to sulk in her cat form. As per usual. Later that day she perched herself in a tree and watched everyone, her head hanging low. At least that way no one would bother her. Usually.

It was how she escaped from it all. Lounging around and napping as a cat didn't seem at all suspicious.

She also noticed Cole, who was seated somewhere off to the side. He didn't look too great, himself. His abnormally large hat lay in the grass next to him as he sat cross legged. His expression almost seemed despondent. Did something happen during their mission?

Or perhaps he, too, dealt with the guilt that came with what happened back at the Spire? She wasn't sure, but they both seemed to have a dark connection to the place. So she could relate, at least.

They'd had similar tragedies happen to them, but they'd turned out so different. She didn't go out of her way to help, and she should. She wanted to. Hell, it was her job. Liz felt like she wanted to try to make herself better instead of remaining stagnant.

Something in her chest squeezed and she felt the need to try to offer comfort, in whatever way possible.

' _I suppose… it's better to start small.'_ She reasoned, jumping down from her perch and trotting up to the rogue.

She walked up to Cole and sat in front of him, next to his knees. Her slitted green eyes focused on him, head tilting to the side. The rogue stared down at her curiously, as if waiting for something. Perhaps wondering why a random cat approached him out of nowhere? Didn't he like animals?

' _Quit your sulking.'_ She tried to say, which only came out as a high pitched chirrup. Grudgingly, she stood up and inched even closer to him. Her front paws rested on his knee.

His hand moved, causing her to flinch. He paused.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you." Cole reassured her and she stood still, allowing him to run his finger along the back of her head. Liz, without any control over it, began to purr. Her chest rumbled, loving the feeling she got when he ran his fingers along her fur. She shrugged it off as a cat thing.

' _Oh, jeez. Don't get used to this, I'm only doing it because you looked like a kicked puppy.'_ She reasoned, whiskers shivering as she let out another chirrup noise.

The blonde rogue's chest rumbled, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips. Liz found that she kind of … liked hearing him laugh. She flattened her ears and looked away, tail flicking irritatedly. _'Whatever.'_

He was sitting there, petting her idly and murmuring unintelligible things. Liz perched on his knee awkwardly, listening to him talk.

"Sometimes the elves are afraid of the cook because her voice roars, rowdy and raucous." He paused, head tilting to the side as one of them moved around in the upper courtyard. "But they know she likes them."

* * *

 **Cole**

Earlier that day he'd tried to confront Serana, try to make her feel better about their predicament. Her anxiety was almost overwhelming most of the time and it made it hard for the spirit to approach. But he had to admit, he sought her out was because he was curious about Hope.

He wanted to know how Hope helped her. The rogue tilted his head and reached out, intent on asking. He poked the mage, getting a response from the spirit.

Flashes of pain, a small girl fighting back. Protecting. Hoping that they got to safety. Asking for help. Special. Special. Friend. The little elf almost got struck down, only to blind the enemy in white light. Serana had asked Hope to help. To keep them away from her family, her friends. Her clan.

Darkspawn had attacked them and she'd single handedly burned them inside out. Every single one of them. No one knew how it happened, but Serana did. Her mother did. They kept it a secret. Hope was … there. Was always there. Watching over Serana. Because he thought she was special.

Then Cole pulled away, eyes wide. Serana stared back at him curiously. Her ears pink in embarrassment. "D-Do you need something, Cole?"

"Sorry, I—I was just. Hope said hello." He stuttered out, seeing the horror cross the elf's features. They were alone in front of the healer's tents. No one close enough to hear. "S-Sorry! I won't say anything, I promise!"

But it wouldn't do. The fear still ripped at her inside. No one was supposed to find out. He knew that they would probably call her an abomination. Kill her outright, even. Cole didn't want that for her.

"Forget."

Hope wouldn't forget. But Serana did. He'd just wanted to help, but couldn't. Not today.

Sometimes it felt like it was too much for him. There were times where he'd be fine, following, finding the people in need. He could reach out. Heal. Mend.

When they'd gotten back, they were too loud. His mind couldn't focus and no matter how hard he tried, he just seemed to make it worse. There were days like that, he knew. It was why he settled himself on the upper floors of the Herald's Rest. Their wants, their needs, dimmed—dull and drowned out.

But today, Cole wanted to be outside. To listen to the wind and feel the way it caressed his face. The smell of Skyhold was different somehow. After spending a majority of his time in this world down deep – dark cells and dripping stone. The thought made him cringe.

Outside was nice. Bursting with life.

That brought him to the present, why he was sitting there. The rogue was in the upper courtyard in front of the tavern, legs crossed as he ran his fingertips along the blades of grass. Humming to the sound of the wind.

Solas called it meditating. Quiet and calm, he'd said. _'Sit down and close your eyes.'_ Focus. The spirit tried, but he kept hearing them. No matter how faint.

Then, louder. Liz was sitting in front of him, staring up at him curiously. Worried and reaching out. He liked it when she was a cat, her fur was grey with black stripes. Tabby? She seemed more open like this, less scared of people seeing. Judging.

They sat there for awhile and he told her about her friends. What he'd heard when he listened and watched. She liked that.

"Serana is happy, but hesitant … unsure. She sees Solas and knows he's afraid." He knew Solas knew about Hope. Wanted to say something, but didn't want to scare her. He cared. Was worried. What if Hope gets corrupted? What if? He remembered hearing Solas, too. " _'Gentle and gracious, lost in her eyes. She is so… beautiful.'_ "

They both heard the sound of something hitting the wall and shattering. Followed by the door to the tavern being thrown open and Varric running by. Cassandra wasn't all too happy. Betrayal, she thought she could trust the dwarf. But he was only protecting his friend. His friend who had too much, already.

The Seeker wouldn't listen. Their argument slowly faded into the background as they got further away. Cole sighed, looking down at Liz. Her ears were drooping, eye lids fighting to stay open.

They sat like that for a moment, staring off as the commotion from the day slowly died down. Liz's thoughts were dimming, slowing down as she dozed off. Being around her was almost comforting, for the rogue. She was like him, in a way. He could sense it.

She worried about what she did and didn't want to ever be that again. Uncontrolled, letting the fire lick away at everything she cared for. She hadn't meant to. Emotions too strong, too potent. She wasn't like that… back on Earth? At home. Here it was harder.

They were both startled out of their states when Solas walked up to the spirit, icy eyes staring down at the two of them. "Cole?"

Liz had stood up, back arched and tail fluffy. Only to calm, once she saw it was just Solas.

"Yes, Solas?"

"The Inquisitor has requested your presence. Among others." His eyes seemed to land on the cat, before looking at the rogue again. "It seems there have been reports of demon activity near Skyhold."

He felt Liz tense in his arms. Cole frowned, "I-I haven't felt anything. I would know before they got close enough to hurt anyone."

"Yes, but it seems it is headed this way. South East near the base of the mountain." He nodded, "We are to be briefed on the details in the War Room."

The cat jumped off of his lap and darted off toward the main hall. But not before Cole felt the panic that rolled off of her, one word being the most prominent amongst her thoughts.

' _Athras!'_


	13. Athras

"Athras"

Friendship was a fickle thing, Liz thought. All her life, or lives, she'd met people that have told her that they were friends. People that promised to always be there for her, telling her that she always had a place to go. A friend to confide in.

But things weren't so simple. Not once in her life has she ever met anyone that didn't at some point have to go their separate way. Or perhaps simply got bored of the young woman? All of those _'I'll always be here'_ s and _'We'll always be friends'_ amounted to nothing in the end.

It always did.

Liz began to expect it, at some point. Everyone leaves eventually. An inevitability. No one had time to stick around. Even the people she called family had done it, at some point or another.

Her mother and father kicked her sister out and stopped contacting her after she expressed disagreement with their actions. Any of her other relatives seemed to shy away and cease contact, as well. Her grandmother wouldn't have let it happen, but she was no longer around.

Being tossed aside and left behind was inevitable. Liz was tired of it, quite frankly. Tired of being disposable. So when the subject of friends came up she simply shut down. Closed off. She didn't need such things, anyway. What mattered was keeping herself alive. Keeping her brother alive.

That's all that mattered. Nothing else did.

' _I won't fail this time.'_ She vowed, thinking of Elise. An ache settled into her chest.

Or, so she thought. When she heard about where the demon activity was spotted, dread had settled in her stomach. It threatened to consume her like a disease. Fear. She bound into the building as fast as her little body could carry her.

The location was dangerously close to where one of Athras' shacks were.

When she got into the hallway that connected to the War Room, she swiftly transformed and stumbled. Her feet barely catching purchase. Liz panted, sweat already beading on her brow.

This couldn't be happening.

She hadn't realized until then just how attached to the elder she'd been. She was grateful for the things he's done for her. Teaching her how to control her magic by using her will and keeping her emotions in check. Even shapeshifting, which wasn't really all that common of a skill to have. From what she's seen.

The young woman stumbled and threw the door open with all her might. Which wasn't all that much. The door opened, causing a couple people's heads to turn. Windows circled the far side of the meeting room, allowing ample sunlight to filter in. Maxwell's advisors were on the far side of the wood carved table. The Seeker stood beside him, shoulder brushing against his as she turned to look at the interruption.

Evidently they'd been in the middle of discussing something. Liz's eyes zeroed in on Maxwell, who looked disapproving of her lack of manners.

"Max." She huffed, out of breath. "The demon activity. Where… where was it located? When are you going?"

"Erin, we are in the middle of a meeting here." He scolded, his lone eye staring down at her in disappointment. "You know better than to just barge in like that."

"This is serious!" She snapped, "My friend. My mentor. H-He …"

This gave the young man pause and he held his hand up to the others, halting the discussion if only briefly.

"It will be handled, Erin. Please, don't worry. If your friend is there, we will help him."

"We have to go, now." She pleaded, her hand gripping the doorframe. Why did her body feel so sluggish?

"It is nearly dusk. We will leave tomorrow after you've rested. It appears as though you can barely keep yourself upright." His hands were on her shoulders, now. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I… I ah… I cannot remember." She answered, eyes flicking up at the advisors. Leliana looked almost irritated at her interruption. Josephine looked worried and Cullen seemed sympathetic. He, too, seemed to have bags underneath his eyes.

"Look, go back up to our rooms and we can discuss this when the meeting is over. Try to get some rest."

"No…" She muttered, the words were there but wouldn't leave her mouth. _'I can't. Everytime I do I...I am reminded of your sister.'_

Her dreams were no longer a place of peace and serenity, like they were on Earth. Now it was a place of torture and reminders of her misdoings. Of… Elise, who she tried _so_ hard not to think about. Because everytime she thought about her sister, it was like the wound in her heart ripped open tenfold. The void in the box of feelings-not-to-touch seemingly growing and growing with each day.

She knew, she didn't allow herself a healthy way to cope. To grieve.

But she couldn't. She didn't have time. Never did.

* * *

 **Cole**

The spirit followed his friend, Solas, toward the War Room. Where they were to wait and talk to the Inquisitor about what they were to do the next day. But it seemed Liz had beaten them to the room. The young woman stood there, arguing with the eldest Trevelyan. Everything about her seemed erratic, scared. Her arms moved animatedly as she spoke, brows knitted and anger in her eyes.

Solas stood behind her with his hands folded behind his back. He looked as though he wanted to step in, but opted to wait.

Cole? Cole didn't know what to do. He knew that Maxwell had things under control. That Max would never just let people needlessly get hurt. But he also knew that the young man would never send in his troops or friends out just to get killed.

"I'm leaving. I'll go myself." Liz gritted through her teeth, getting a stunned look out of the Inquisitor.

"Erin!"

He heard it deep within her, that time. Liz was practically screaming, _'I'm not_ _ **ERIN**_ _.'_

But she simply yanked her arm from his grasp and turned to leave. Leave when night was falling, with little to no provisions. Leaving to her inevitable death.

Without even thinking, Cole stood in front of the woman. She opened her mouth to protest, but Solas seemed to have a similar plan. The bald mage held out his hand in front of the woman's face. Her eyes crossed and she slumped forward. Solas caught her and sighed, looking up at the group.

"Inquisitor. It seems Erin has been suffering from sleep deprivation, I'm sure you're aware of. It is… worse than I thought."

The young man shut the door as he left the room, allowing some privacy between the three. Cole knew that the woman hadn't been sleeping, but she was so stubborn and wouldn't allow anyone to help her. Not even Serana. Solas set her down gently onto the ground, his hands glowing as he began to push his magic into her. Checking for any damage.

"Is it demons…?" Trevelyan asked quietly, worry buzzing in his chest like a hive of bees. Cole tensed when Solas spoke next.

"There is no sure way of knowing unless I… examine her closer. I could enter her dreams and try to root out the source, if I may?"

Maxwell looked like he was considering, before Cole blurted, "Liz already said no, Solas."

"...Liz?" The Inquisitor asked, brows scrunched.

"Erin." He clarified, "Beaten, betrayed—buried in sorrow. She doesn't want anyone to see. _Seeing will hurt her._ "

"W-what… what happened to her?" Maxwell asked, looking at the spirit. Afraid. He was afraid to know.

"She keeps it hidden, held tight. Here." He put his fist to his chest, eyes narrowing down at the elf. He then looked up at the Inquisitor, "If you want to know, ask her. When people care, it makes her happy. Reminds her that not everyone is the same."

Cole felt oddly protective of her. Of their budding friendship. So he crouched down and picked up her unconscious body, his steely blue eyes staring down at the elf in disapproval. He would talk to him about it later. But not now.

With that, he was gone.

Something about the way he tried to go around Liz's wishes and ask her brother instead, made him angry. Cole was angry for Liz. What he did was wrong.

The young rogue shut the door behind them, Liz cradled in his arms gently as he made his way to her room. The Trevelyan Quarters were still under construction, mostly. Their rooms had been the first things to be made. He walked up to the door on the right, pushing it open and walking up to her bed that sat in the back. The curtains were drawn, allowing the room to be cloaked in complete darkness.

He sighed as he set her onto the soft bed. He noticed how it was mostly untouched. Most of the room was, aside from the dresser and her desk. The room was barren, no personal touches at all. The bed, most of all, remained unslept in.

How did she keep herself going? Didn't people need sleep?

Liz's breathing came in short sharp gasps, her brows scrunching. Cole tilted his head and looked down at her, trying to listen and see what was wrong. He found himself crouched nearby, head tilting to the side. What was bothering her?

Fear, it roiled in her gut. Guilt, most of all. A tear escaped the side of her eye, rolling down her cheek.

He'd been inside of the Inquisitor's head before. It had been an accident. But he's never tried it after that. And he knew that Liz didn't want anyone to enter her dreams. She didn't even want Cole's help at all. But part of him couldn't accept that. Accept that she didn't need help when she clearly did.

Liz let out a whimper, her mouth opening in a silent cry.

"Liz?" Cole called, hand held out and about to wake her up. That is, until something seemed to pulse. It radiated from her chest, her skin buzzed underneath his fingertips. He grabbed her shoulder to shake her. But once again, what he could only describe as her aura, pulsated and sent a shock through the spirit. It felt like it was pulling at him, dragging him in.

He gasped in pain, feeling her thoughts and memories invade his head. His surroundings blurred and everything felt so loud. Colors burst into his vision and it felt like he was seeing stars.

Then, he heard sobbing in the distance. A woman, crying out, "I didn't mean for this to happen!"

Cole opened his eyes and looked around. Confused. He blinked and walked toward the commotion. Rocks floated around and the ground was covered in a thick layer of black sludge. It seemed to trickle off of the floating rocks like a mini waterfall. Slowly accumulating onto the ground.

"But you did, anyway. You couldn't even save me." An unfamiliar voice spoke to her. He walked closer, feet slowed due to the thick substance on the ground.

"And you took my place. Do you ever think you'll be forgiven for that? What would _he_ think?" Another voice sneered, which sounded like Liz. Or, rather, Erin. "He's not _your_ brother."

"I'm sorry..."

Then Cole saw it. A young woman, sitting on her knees. Her hands were in her long black hair, yanking and curling into herself. And in front of her, a despair and terror demon. They looked down at her, their claws scraping at the spherical barrier that seemed to shield her from their blows. But that didn't stop them from speaking. Making it appear as though they were someone else.

The woman on the ground. It was… Liz. She seemed paler than Erin, though still retained her tanned complexion. Taller, too. She looked up at the demons and cried out when Despair's claws hooked into the barrier and yanked on it. He could see, in her mind's eye, that Despair took the form of Elise. Her sister. Terror, Erin.

He saw them for what they truly were, but she didn't.

"Leave her alone!" He demanded, voice drowned out by Liz's cries. He stepped forward and swept his hand, unknowingly releasing a pulse of white energy. It seemed to envelope the area, the demons screamed and slowly dissipated.

When the light dimmed, their surroundings were different. The sound of soft waves crashing into rocks could be heard. Long grass swayed in the wind and the sun beat down on the two as they sat in the sandy patch of a beach.

Cole's eyes widened in fear when the woman began to look up, confused. Her brown eyes were turning to look behind her when the rogue willed himself away. He was ripped from the place and back into his body. He jarred into consciousness, eyes wild as he scrambled up from the stone floor.

His hands shook and he looked around for any danger. The sounds of her cries and the jeering taunts from the demons in the back of his mind. But, nothing. Silence.

A snore erupted from the woman's mouth, causing him to jump a little. In the dim lighting, he could see Liz sleeping on her bed. Brows no longer scrunched. No whimpers. Just snores.

Her mind was quiet, this time.

Shakily, he stood up and stumbled out of the room. Somehow, he felt drained.

What just happened?

His thoughts were plagued by that experience all night. Even as he did his usual runs around Skyhold. The Fortress was a massive place, making it that much harder for him to pop around and ease the minds of the wounded. The weak. The needy.

Then, they were getting ready to ride off down the mountain. It was a straight shot with the road, as Liz had described. She was to be the one leading the group to the shack, first. To check on her mentor. Then to the demon activity.

But, Cole stood beside the woman as she lingered near the stables. Her mind warring with itself about the situation at hand. He pulled, trying to find Athras. People were always connected with their loved ones. It made it easier for the spirit to help them. But… the connection was oddly blank. He'd never encountered that before. Usually he got a rush of thoughts, maybe a pinch of a memory. But never nothing. Not even if they were gone from this world.

Liz turned, eying the young man suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

He tilted his head, frowning down at the woman in concern. There was always one thing that bothered her. Maybe…

"The face is wrong, the name hurts. Sometimes you think this is all a dream, then it snaps into place. Pop. Prowling at the edges." He spoke softly, knowing everyone was too far away to hear. "Dreams don't hurt."

Her face twisted up into displeasure, pulling herself inward. Making it harder for him to see. Did she do it knowingly?

"I really don't appreciate you digging around in my head, spirit."

"It's spirit? Not demon?"

"There's a difference?" The small woman crossed her arms, feet tapping against the hay covered floor in the barn. Their party was saddling up their horses in the background, one of the barn doors open for them to see. Rin was standing out in the lower courtyard, grazing on the grass in the massive pasture guarded by the fortress.

"I'm helping." Thinking about it would help her, he reasoned. Knowing that forcing herself to put it aside was just straining at the edges. A temporary fix.

"No, you're dredging up things I'd rather not think about."

"Ignoring it hurts you even more." He explained, "Like a dam, swelling and threatening to burst. Cracks at the edges." He shifted, picking at the hems of his tattered gloves. He didn't look away from the woman, however. "I don't want you to break."

"I won't."

"' _But it is an inevitability. Can't show it. Can't-'_ " He pulled from her head, making his point.

"Out!" She shooed him, waving her hand between the two. "I have to get ready."

He watched her leave, frowning.

The rogue approached, observing her as she gathered a saddle and halter. She wasn't like Sera, in that she was afraid and helping her only hurt. He could see that, now. Part of her wanted the help. But the other part of her was too afraid of it. Afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of dying.

Liz approached the animal, who turned to her and snorted in her face. This sent spittle into the mage's hair and eyes. She groaned and wiped at it furiously.

"Rin, seriously. Stop with this shit." Liz groaned, trying to get the saddle onto the hart. Cole watched in amusement as the young woman tried her heart out. "Athras might be in trouble."

At those words, the animal froze. She halted in her attempts to irritate the young mage and simply stood still. Cole tilted his head at the two, wondering about their connection with one another. They seemed to have this inherent understanding. She spoke to her like she was a person and Rin seemed to tease the young girl like she was merely a snot nosed child.

Liz had apologized for her attitude the day before, though she was irritated at the elf for just putting her to sleep with that spell of his. Cole had yet to confront Solas about his attempt to go around her wishes.

The small group galloped down the mountain, slowing down when needed. Rin's hooves seemed to dig into the snow in haste. Knowing of the dire situation their mutual friend may be in. Cole could feel it, too.

Not much was traded in terms of conversation as they headed down the path. It took them almost half the day to get there. Maxwell was on the lookout, remaining on their flank as he kept an eye out in the trees. Solas was beside Cole, flanking Liz as she galloped on ahead. Letting Rin take the lead and bring them to Athras' shack. Cassandra remained in front of the Inquisitor, occasionally looking back at him worriedly.

Cole didn't think anyone had a good feeling about this.

Especially when they reached their destination. Wood was piled on one side, along with a makeshift dome-like structure made out of animal skins and sticks.

But that wasn't what gave them pause. It was the sheer amount of bodies that seemed to surround the area. Nine, maybe ten Inquisition scouts lay dead in the snow. Some of their bodies mangled beyond recognition, limbs twisted in ways they shouldn't be. The group dismounted, pulling out their weapons and approaching with caution.

Cole's hairs rose when the air around them let out a sound, shifting and cracking in the air. The rogue gripped his daggers, eyes darting around for enemies. But there were none. Something didn't feel right. Something screamed in the back of his mind, telling them to run.

"Erin, wait. Erin." Maxwell hissed, trying to call out to his sister as she walked up to the shack. He footsteps were slow, almost hesitant as she approached. "Don't-"

She opened the door, a slow creaking noise echoing through the air around them. The stench of death seemed to billow out, permeating the air. Rot and the coppery smell of blood was the most prominent. Liz whined, taking a step back. He couldn't see her face, only her back. But he could tell that she was distressed.

"…. H-Hahren?" Liz sounded like a small child, just then. Cole saw it in front of her. That… that _thing_. It ambled slowly through the shack, it's body almost too big for the building.

She couldn't hear the yelling from behind her, nor the screeches of distress from Rin. The hart was behind the group with the other mounts, but refused to come any closer.

There was Athras, stepping his way out of the hut they'd once shared some time back. Or, at least it had the face of Athras. His white hair dangled in front of his face, his usual messy bun absent. His blind eye was open, but it was red. Blood red. It stared down at her, mouth splitting into a grin. Sharp, bloodstained teeth, glimmered down at the young woman.

It's form seemed to dwarf the young woman, who stood stock still. Almost unbelieving. His body was anything but humanoid. Long spindly arms with claws as big as her hand. The demon with Athras' face turned it's head, almost upside down.

"Oh, dear _da'len_. It's been so long." It spoke in his voice as his clawed hand came up to caress her cheek, causing her to flinch. Then, more eyes opened. All over his forehead, they rolled and looked down at her. "What did I say? I would take everything from you, love. _**You will be mine**_."

That last part was familiar, to the young woman. He could sense it. From some of the memories that he was able to snag. It's voice. The demon that constantly haunted her dreams. Her face twisted, fury spiking through her chest and buzzing through the air.

"How dare you!?" She screeched at it.

"Erin, get back!" Maxwell practically screamed, throwing his body forward in attempt to get to the young woman. To protect her. But it was too late. The thing raked it's claws into her shoulder, grasping onto her and holding her up like a ragdoll. Like some sort of prize.

The demon cackled, then let out a loud screech. This knocked the Inquisitor back onto his butt. The others were merely stunned. Cole was about to launch himself forward, when he felt it. Like a well threatening to burst. Fear was evident in Liz's gaze. Fear and pain and – Cole yelled, "Get back!"

Liz's body was enveloped in a blue barrier that Solas threw on everyone. Cassandra grabbed Maxwell, dragging him away and heeding the spirit's warning.

The screams that emitted from the otherworlder were ear-splitting. Animosity, agony—anguish tore through her throat. She couldn't control it, that time. It consumed her every thought.

The elven apostate threw up a huge wall of ice, shielding everyone just in time.

The woman was practically howling when the world around her lit up with reds and oranges. The thing that was holding her let out it's own pained cries, melding with her own in a symphony of sorrow.

Cole could feel tears springing to his eyes, feeling the waves of her heartache that seemed to roll off.

"Erin!" Maxwell cried out, being held back by the Seeker.

Their attempts were for naught. She couldn't hear them, no matter how much they called out to her. Then, it all stopped. Solas was standing with his staff held out in front of him, hands extended toward the wall of ice. Sweat slowly beaded down his brow as the wall shattered, revealing the young woman slumped over the charred form of her mentor.

Or, what used to be her mentor.

It was Cole who stepped forth first, knowing that she was herself. Not an abomination. The smell of charred meat floated through the air, smoke billowing from the dead scouts that had surrounded the small shack. The shack was nothing but a pile of embers, surrounded by charred dirt. The snow having been completely melted.

And in front of it, sat Liz. Liz, who knelt next to the elderly man. He could hear the crackle and pop that the bodies seemed to release. Athras' body twitched every now and again, even in death.

"It's not him. It's not him." He heard her muttering, slowly rocking back and forth. "It wasn't him anymore. It wasn't."

Cole crouched at her left, eyes warily observing her blank expression. Maxwell was the next to approach, getting a grunt of disapproval from Cassandra.

"She may not be herself!" Cassandra followed, sword still drawn. "Max—Inquisitor!"

A trembling hand was placed on her right shoulder as she sat on her knees, curled over the burnt body of her once-mentor. His face was black, eye sockets hollowed and burnt. Mouth opened as if in a scream. She cradled his head and he could hear how discordant her song was. How … off it seemed. The pain.

"Erin. Erin. Maker, Erin. Please answer me." Maxwell shook Erin's shoulder. But she wasn't responding, her thoughts, her feelings, everything seemed so distant. Too far. No matter how much Cole tried to grasp and bring her back.

Both men sat on either side of her, unsure of what to do. Neither having seen her in such a state.

* * *

 **Liz**

The next thing she knew, she was riding atop Rin with someone's arms wrapped around her waist. She blinked, taking in her surroundings slowly. Sluggishly. They were approaching Skyhold. She didn't even ask about the apparent blank in her memory. She didn't care. She just didn't—

The young woman wriggled, feeling the arms around her waist loosen.

"Erin?" Maxwell asked from behind her. But it was as if she didn't hear him as she hopped off of the blue hart. Rin made no move to nip or nudge her as usual, her head hanging low. Liz stood on the bridge to Skyhold, noting the saddened looks shot her way as they continued into the fortress.

"Erin, please talk to me."

Everything seemed to weigh down on the small mage as she stood at the gates of Skyhold with a listless look upon her features. Her brown gaze scanned the mountains and she couldn't help the weight that seemed to settle inside of her chest. She couldn't ignore it this time, the pushing and crushing pain that seemed to come with the realization that she'd never be able to see her Hahren ever again.

Then, like a snowball. It all came crashing down. Everything seemed to seep through her box. The box that she stuffed things into. Later. Never.

 _She would never be able to go home._

Even now, Liz didn't consider this place home. She doubted she ever would, not with the warm and welcoming memories that seemed only to taunt her in her dreams at night. Instead of dreams offering solace, it tore into her and the chasm in her chest seemed only to grow. Day by day. It festered like an old wound.

Would she ever see her family again? Athras had been the closest thing to home she'd had, she realized.

 _He was gone._

So, for the first time in what felt like ages, the dam burst. Liz had tried _so_ hard to keep her emotions at bay. Nothing but a dull ache in her chest and a flittering thought. She hadn't the time to sort through what was. Only what was _now_.

She hardly ever allowed herself enough time to grieve, even since her arrival. It'd been a struggle to live. Her mind constantly occupied by that very thought. Almost as if intentional. An unhealthy coping mechanism.

But right then, it was nearly impossible. Her chest felt like it'd split open, her eyes widened in fear. The cold air bit into her skin as she stood at the entrance of Skyhold in the snow.

Then came the silent sobs. They wracked her body like an earthquake, rippling through her chest and through her throat. But the young mage didn't make a peep. Couldn't, as she collapsed into the snow on her knees with her hands in her hair. Liz tugged, yanked. She felt her hair coming out of her scalp as she gasped and tried to breathe through the sobs.

It hurt. Oh gods, it hurt so much. Why did it hurt so much?

A hiccup burst passed her chapped lips without her consent. The chilled mountain air bit into her damp cheeks, bringing in the stark realization that she was crying. Crying for the first time in a long _long_ while. Crying for the first time since she'd arrived.

Crying was weakness. Weakness on Thedas meant death. It was what Liz came to associate it to, anyway. _Liz wasn't weak._ She made sure of that.

"Erin?" Maxwell called, still right next to her. She blinked, trying to clear her blurry vision. "You shouldn't be in the snow, it's too cold and-"

His footsteps were but a few feet away now, yet the woman refused to turn to look at him. She cut him off with one swift transformation, her body shrinking and the world becoming larger.

"H-Hey!" Her brother from this world tried to stop her as she darted between his legs and into the fortress, her paws digging into the cold dirt.

Her name wasn't Erin. It wasn't!

The fact that she had transformed into a cat in the open didn't even seem to register. Maxwell was the only one that knew of her second shapeshifter transformation (that she knew of). Other than perhaps Leliana, that is.

Up the stairs, her little paws pitter pattered on the stone. Left and into the grass toward the Birch tree that she often spent her time in. The evening sun made the leaves look even more vibrant as they fluttered to the ground.

Liz came to an abrupt stop, her small body shaking with sobs that this form couldn't properly express. The only thing she could do was slink low and let out pained sounding huffs, ears laying flat against her skull.

Something shifted in her peripheral and her sharp gaze flicked in it's direction, focusing in on-

It was Cole. Of course it was. He was approaching, stringy hair hiding his eyes. The rogue's mouth was screwed into a concerned frown as he bent down. "Come here."

She didn't protest. She couldn't. Her vision felt like it was getting hazy, everything felt like too much. The young mage's thoughts spiraled, remembering her death. Elise's death. Her killing all of those innocent mages. It all played back to her, guilt and agony overwhelming as she tried to curl into herself.

She felt completely and utterly alone.

"You aren't alone." Was the first thing he said, arms holding the cat tightly against his chest. Liz could feel him as he slowly stood up and began walking somewhere. The world shifted and bounced, but the mage didn't seem to care. Nothing seemed to matter at that point and she began to feel lightheaded.

Then they stopped.

Her ears felt like they were full of cottonballs and she could have sworn he was saying something, but it refused to register. Cole's hands clasped around her waist and tried to pry her off of his chest, her claws instinctively clutched on.

"...have to..." He was talking lowly as his fingers gently pulled her paws off of his patchy longsleeve, "But you need to breathe. Take deep breaths, Liz."

Just like that, she could hear again. He knew. He knew? All this time?

Of course he did. The rogue wasn't stupid, by any means. Then, it broke. Her hold on her transformation popped and she was sitting in his lap, sobbing. Liz didn't even seem to care. The room was dark, stone floors and walls. Broken furniture. They were in one of the towers along the walls. The room was dusty and unused, denoting lack of traffic.

It was there that she broke.

"I-I won't … won't—" She choked, trying to speak between the hiccups. "Won't see him e-ever again. A-And my—my family-"

Oh, Gods. Her family. Even though there had been a fight between them all, she still cared deeply for her aunts and uncles. Even though she was mad at her parents, she still loved them. But she would never have the chance to make amends. Never have the chance to talk to them. Never.

"Your hurt touches theirs. They miss you, too. _'Should have listened. I was too harsh on the girls. Why did this have to happen?'_ " Cole informed softly, but it only seemed to reopen the old wounds she felt. Liz curled up tighter and tried not to let him know how much that only seemed to make her feel worse. Of course they missed her. How could she only think of herself like that? It wasn't just her that was mourning loss, here. "N-No! I made it worse! I t-tried to. I tried to make it better, but I just tore it!"

The only thing she could do was shake her head, thinking to herself that it was the thought that counted. She just needed to ride it out. Liz remembered reading about grief. But she didn't know how to apply it to herself. So she just sat there.

' _I really have an ugly cry.'_ She thought, trying to pull herself together. Cole was holding onto her, hands clutched against her wolf fur cloak. Keeping her still.

"Memories like a picture, burned into the back of her eyelids. _Hurts. It hurts_." He spoke in a lilting tone, "I want to make it stop. But _I can't._ "

"I-I'm so-orry."

"You're … apologizing? Why? You don't need to."

He fretted for awhile, minutes maybe. The words that came out of his mouth only seemed jumbled, silent, but yet he did nothing to push her away. If anything, Cole seemed to welcome Liz into his personal space as he held onto her. Comforted her in the most human way possible.

"No... No I-I am fine." She tried to reassure once her voice returned and her body was no longer quivering. Well, not as much as before. "I didn't mean to…. Fall apart on you like that."

"Did it help?" He asked, though she could tell he already knew the answer.

"Yes. Thank you." She sniffled, wiping at her face with her arm warmers. She probably looked like an absolute wreck right then, eyes red and puffy. Face flushed and hair sticking to her face from her breakdown.

Liz felt somehow… empty. The sobs that had wracked her body took a lot out of her, leaving her tired. So the woman slumped, slowly crawling out of the rogue's personal bubble.

"We are here. Serana, Jade, Maxwell. You are not alone, _I am here._ " He spoke words she really needed to hear at that moment.

' _He is my friend.'_ She realized with a snort, remembering the circumstances in which they met. She'd long since forgiven him for that, however. He'd proven himself to her. Apologized and tried to make amends. They were both in a bad place, back then. But that didn't excuse any of the stuff they did.

He wasn't just some scary demon, a monster from her past. He, too, was a person. Something she'd had a hard time believing. But now she saw. He was just different. He was… him. Cole.

"...Thank you."


	14. Friends

"Friends"

" _Can't you teach me how to defend myself?"_

" _There is an order to this, da'len. Patience."_

" _But what if I am attacked again? What if-"_

" _Silence!" He slammed his staff onto the ground, the air rippled around him as he stared the young woman down. "First you must learn to control yourself. Learn the practical uses of magic. The building blocks."_

 _She watched the conversation drag on, the elderly man hobbling back and forth as he lectured the young woman. Liz saw herself sitting in the snow, looking up at him in wonder. Learning about the new world. Absorbing every bit of information like a sponge._

 _She snorted. She'd always been a good student._

 _That was… when she learned a few basic things. Like heating water in a pot within a matter of seconds, or keeping yourself warm, even the barrier trick on her feet. The first thing she'd learned that week was how to heighten her senses. The first step to learning how to shapeshift. Becoming one with nature._

 _Which hadn't been difficult, in her opinion. She'd always been close to nature, anyway._

 _Athras had been pleased._

 _Liz smiled sadly, watching the scene slowly dissolve into the air, leaving her in an empty room._

 _Ever since that time a few days back, when the images of Elise and Erin had been banished in a blinding white light, her dreams have been quiet. Liz figured out that, if she thought about it hard enough. Willed it into existence. She could replay memories on the white wall. But… beyond that, nothing. She was stuck in the room. No windows, no doors._

 _She didn't want to leave, if she were to be honest. It was safe here. Safe was good._

 _So she sat there, in silence. Staring at the wall. Watching. Remembering. Allowing herself to grieve for the loss of her mentor, her sister, her innocence from Earth._

* * *

 **Cole**

' _Liz won't wake up.'_ Cole thought to himself as he walked out of Josephine's office, leaving her a glass of water and a sweet treat he'd liberated from the kitchens. It was a thought that often crossed his mind in the days that followed the death of the young woman's mentor.

Her screams had been absolutely heartwrenching. He could tell that it still bothered the Inquisitor very much, as he's been burying himself in his work much more these passed days. Cole wasn't the only one worried for the young man.

Cole then returned to the kitchens, feet not making any noise as he shifted across the stone floor. He'd heard Jade, quite loudly, expressing her disdain for whoever stole all of her lard. Oftentimes the dwarf was holed up in the kitchens in the actual fortress, but today she was at the Herald's Rest cooking up something 'special'.

So, he decided to lend a hand.

Quietly, he made his way across the upper courtyard with a crate of lard in tote. His eyes barely peeked over the top of the wooden crate, hat shifting and almost getting in his vision. He paid no mind to how his knuckles began turning white by the time he got to the building.

The lanky rogue was barely able to get the door open, with some odd balancing act with the heavy crate. It creaked open, though no one paid any heed. The roar of conversation hit him as he entered, followed by the stench of unwashed bodies and watered down ale. His blue eyes passed over the crowd and zeroed in on Jade, who was standing near the bar counter next to Cabot.

"Hey, were you the one that took my lard?" Jade wrinkled her nose up at the scraggly looking rogue as he stood in front of the dwarf. He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a loud crashing noise at his right.

' _ **THUMP!'**_

' _ **CRASH!'**_

Breaking glass and wood could be heard, along with the distinct sound of grunts as someone fell. Down the stairs. Cole turned, eyes wide from underneath his wide brimmed hat. _'What...'_

"Uuuuuuuggghhhh…."

He could feel the amusement rolling off of the blonde elf from the second floor as she tried to stifle her cackles. The burly Qunari was laying at the bottom of the staircase, face down. Broken boards were scattered atop him. The stairs themselves looked like they'd broken underneath the strain. The tavern went unnervingly quiet as they watched the scene unfold.

"The Iron Bull? Are you hurt?" Cole asked, concerned. He didn't want to move, since he was in the middle of handing the crate to Jade.

"Uuurmph...Who put so much lard on the stairs?" The mercenary grumbled, rubbing his sore rump. A chunk of the wooden railing was stuck to his massive horns as he looked up and spotted the spirit. His eye squinted and he pointed his finger accusingly, "Hey, Demon. Was it you?"

"Very observant, Chief." Krem stated sarcastically from behind the Ben-Hassrath.

Panicked, the spirit handed Jade the crate and willed himself out of sight. Everyone in the room experienced a brief sense of confusion, before the scene repeated itself. The Iron Bull began rubbing his rump.

"Uuurmph … Who put so much lard on the stairs?" He grumbled, yet again. His eye zeroed in on the dwarf standing next to the bar counter. The man rose his brow at the sight, "….Huh, I didn't take you for the crafty type. Vindictive, yes. But, wait, what did I do to deserve it?"

"What? Why would I waste perfectly good lard on your fat arse?" Jade flushed at his accusation, hackles risen. That's when the young woman noticed she was carrying the crate. "Wait. When...?"

The warrior stood up straight and cracked his neck, "Hey, now. I'm not fat. This is pure muscle."

Just to prove a point, the dwarf set the crate down and slapped his stomach. "I wasn't aware muscles jiggled."

That's what did it. Sera began cackling from her perch upstairs, doubling over and holding her stomach as she did so. The group began sassing one another just as Cole made his retreat.

He skittered his way out into the chilly mountain air, eyes darting around to make sure not to bump into anyone.

He'd done what he could and was intent on going to check in on the unconscious Trevelyan. He was wary, keeping watch to make sure she didn't succumb to her thoughts. The niggling feelings in the back of her mind were disconcerting, to say the least. She was suffering, sorrow—searing at the edges of her sanity. Everything felt like too much. Too much.

He didn't want her light to die out.

"Cole, you just checked in on her an hour ago." Solas sighed when the rogue peeked his head into Liz's bedroom for the sixth time that day. His hat pressed against the door, settling one his head in an odd tilt. "I told you I would retrieve you if she were to awaken."

The spirit shuffled in, looking every bit as worried. He wasn't entirely sure why he was so concerned about the young mage. Part of him believed that, perhaps, it was because he felt the need to make amends for almost killing her at the Spire. Or maybe it was because of their budding friendship.

"But, Solas..." He pulled at the frayed ends of his sleeves, "She's been asleep for three days. Lost, lonely—lamenting about what was. What could have been."

"I'm sorry, my friend. I do not know what to do. It's up to her, now." He sighed, turning to look at Serana as she patted the unconscious woman's face down with a damp towel. It was midday, the sunlight poured in through the windows. Solas reached up toward the fretting woman, his hand gently brushing her silvery locks away from her face.

Serana turned, face reddening underneath his gaze.

"You must remember to take care of yourself, too." He spoke softly and she turned back to her friend.

"I-I'm sorry… I've just never seen her like this. I'm … worried." Her voice was quiet, like a mouse. Solas nodded in understanding, before standing up and brushing himself off. The bed creaked at his lost weight, his bare feet barely making noise against the stone as he neared the door.

With a nod, he left.

Minutes passed before the dalish mage sat up straight, her head resting on the stone wall as she sat on the floor. The two sat in silence. It appeared as though Serana dozed in and out, eyes drooping. But she refused to leave the room.

* * *

 **Liz**

Things started to come back to her slowly, at first. Sluggish, like she was moving through tar. She could faintly hear soft snores at her right. Liz opened her eyes, blinking and trying to focus in. The light that poured in through the windows were a deep orange, telling her that it was evening.

She groaned quietly, sitting up. The bed creaked, jolting the person at her right awake. They'd evidently been on the floor, as the bed squeaked when they sat down beside her. Small, delicate hands were pressed onto her shoulders.

"H-Hey, are you alright?" Serana's voice filtered through her ears. But Liz simply stared forward, remnants of her dreams still fresh in her mind. "E-Erin?"

Her gaze was vacant as she thought about it, wondered how she should approach it. But before she could think too much on it, she heard her brother. Or, the man she'd come to see as a brother.

"You're awake!" Maxwell cried from the doorway, stumbling toward her bed and pulling her into a tight hug. "Maker, Erin. Don't scare me like that."

"….Max?" Liz croaked, her voice hoarse from disuse. She could feel the tears already threatening to fall, her chest hurting. "Max… Maxwell. B-Brother."

"Yes. Yes yes. I'm here. I'm here."

"D-D-Don't leave, p-please."

"No no. Why would I leave?" He pulled away, taking in her small form. He was confused. She knew what she was about to say would draw disappointment from the young man. She wouldn't be surprised if he shunned her, really.

"I killed them, Maxwell. I killed them all." Tears built up in her brown eyes as she made eye contact with her brother. Serana froze from beside her. The memory was still fresh, as if it'd happened yesterday.

She turned her arms, which were now bare, showing him the burn scars that marred the underside of her forearms. They were ugly, spreading all the way up to the crook of her elbow. They still ached and itched from time to time. There was no feeling in those parts of her arm. A reminder of what she's done.

The whole time, she didn't look away. She watched his expression as it morphed from confusion, to horror.

"You saw what happened with… with… _Athras_." Saying his name hurt, stinging at her insides. "The same thing happened at the tower. Only worse. The whole library… it went up in flames." Her voice faded, barely a whisper. "I was so scared."

"Erin..." He choked, "I remember, I… I told you to run and-"

"No, you don't understand. I killed them, Max. Innocent people. They all died. Because. Of. Me." Liz's voice cracked, angry tears streaming down her face. "I'm a murderer! It's my fault they are gone. It's my fault I'm like thi-this! MY. FAULT."

She heard them say Erin's name again, worry rolling off of them. She could sense that they held no anger, no blame. This angered the mage immensely. She didn't deserve it.

"Erin, sister of the Inquisitor. Mass murderer and liar!" The mage's voice slowly rose as she tried to make her point, make them see. See her for what she truly was, "What will they say when they realize what I've done? What I am? Nothing I can do will ever make up for what I did. Nothing…." Her shoulder slumped. Voice, a whisper, "Nothing."

"You've been … you've been carrying this the whole time? With no one to talk to?" Maxwell sounded aghast, his hands held up as if he wanted to hug the young woman. And she turned to her left. Serana, her closest friend, looked absolutely horrified. Tears were built up in her eyes, lips trembling.

"E-Erin…why didn't y-you say something?" The elf muttered, voice watery.

"D-Don't look at me like that." She snapped, trying to pull back. "What I did was wro-"

"It was an accident!" Maxwell grabbed her shoulders, shaking her vigorously. "What you did was wrong, sure. You can never change that. But you can't keep dwelling in the past and expect to move forward. To heal. How do you expect to make up for it if you cannot accept help and move on? It's okay to ask for help. It's okay to talk to someone. It's okay, Erin."

Liz crumpled into the young man's arms, small body shaking. She could feel Serana rubbing circles on her back as she tried to calm the sobs that refused to cease.

"I'm not like dad. I won't condemn you for what you are and the things you've done. I'll try… I'll try my hardest to understand." He spoke from above her head, "Andraste preserve me, I will help you through this."

"I-If anyone finds out… there will be an outrage." Liz muttered through sniffles, embarrassed that snot was already making its way down her face. She scrunched her nose and wiped it away, only for more to appear. "They will want me to be made tranquil."

She hadn't known what Tranquil meant, all that time back. But she did now. The practice was barbaric, at best. But still understood why they did it. People were afraid. Afraid of the unknown. The uncontrolled.

"I will make sure that doesn't happen." He pulled away. Either he didn't notice the wet stains on his tunic or he didn't care. The young man sighed and put his hand through his hair. "Do you guys mind taking her to get something to eat. Getting out of the room will help. I need to go and talk to Leliana about this."

It was Serana who nodded at the man. "Yes, Inquisitor." She then turned to the woman, "Erin… if you ever need someone to talk to, please… I am here. We are here."

She nodded, wiping at her face. With that, the elven woman simply helped her get dressed in silence. Once they stepped out, Cole was there too. Having been waiting for the two to finish.

Liz looked up at the rogue, spotting a soft sort of smile twitching on his lips. As if to say, _'See?'_

The young woman averted her gaze shyly, feeling oddly vulnerable around the two. The hurricane of emotions that swirled in her chest left her feeling raw.

She sighed and followed the two, slowly walking through the main hall and into the courtyard. Blackwall and Cassandra were sparring. Apparently they'd arrived just in time to see the Seeker throw the Warden onto the ground like he was a sack of potatoes. His pained grunt echoed through the air and she could hear a couple of chuckles that followed from their viewers.

Then came the Herald's Rest. Which, once they opened the door, looked a lot better than the last time she went in there. Unfortunately, it still stunk like dung. Well, not literal dung. But Liz wasn't too fond of body odor. The cheap ale she could deal with, but odor?

She scrunched her nose as they walked in to take a seat, the old wooden stool creaking underneath the strain. They were at the bar counter and Cabot walked up, wiping a glass idly. "What can I get for ya?"

"The strong stuff, please." Liz pinched the bridge of her nose, knowing that drinking wouldn't help. But one wouldn't hurt.

"Ooooh, ouch. You ain't lookin' too good, Erin." Jade butted in just as she was being handed a glass of alcohol. Liz took a sip, almost choking when it burned as it went down her throat. "I got just the thing for you! I was gonna eat it, but it looks like you need it more than I do."

The dwarf turned and disappeared into the kitchens, getting a confused glance out of the young mage. When she looked at Serana and Cole, they looked equally as confused. The fidgety elf shrugged. The bard woman began strumming her instrument, singing a slow song over the hum of conversations around them.

Not even a minute passed before Jade returned, plate in tow. She dropped it onto the counter in front of her, clattering loudly. The food on the plate looked achingly familiar.

"Tadaa!" She wriggled her fingers, "Comfort food!"

"W-What is it?" Serana sounded utterly curious.

Liz stared at the ground patty sitting between two buns. She never thought she would ever see…

"Hamburger and Orlesian fries!" She announced, "Brilliant, right? I came up with it myself. It's a hit in Val Royeaux. Made a killing selling these bad boys. Eat up, girly."

She never thought she'd ever see a hamburger ever again. She knew they didn't serve them in this world. It was foreign to them. She knew, because she'd tried to ask for one during her first stay at a tavern. All she'd gotten was odd looks.

"And I even made my secret sauce. See—yeah, you got it." Jade spoke as Liz dipped her fries in the ketchup looking concoction. It tasted like it, too. Only maybe sweeter? "...Oh, well. I didn't know it was _that_ good."

It'd been so long since Liz had eaten a cheeseburger. It was absolutely marvelous. The familiarity of it all brought tears to her eyes. Tears she didn't notice were there until they were dribbling down her cheeks as she stuffed her face.

Memories of the times her and Elise would go out to Burger King simply because they had a bad day surfaced. The way she cackled, her nose wrinkling as she pointed at Liz and teased her. Ketchup dropping on her newly cleaned sweater as she jostled around. Jokes and sassy remarks flying back and forth, like a game of tennis.

She… she missed her _so much._

"She's had a rough couple of days." Serana murmured to the dwarf, who nodded as if understanding. She turned on her heel and left the trio to their business. And when the young mage looked up at her retreating form, she could have sworn she saw her sister in her place. Strutting away with a sassy sway to her hips. Only to be replaced by the stocky form of the dwarf.

Liz looked down at her plate, sniffling. A pang of longing shot through her at the thought of her home.

* * *

The next week passed by achingly slow. The woman would often find herself hanging out around Serana, Blackwall or Maxwell. Most surprisingly, she seemed to even seek the company of Cole. She was rather grateful that he was there for her when she needed it. The rogue had been expecting the first visit, it seemed. But the second, the third, the fourth and so on? He appeared increasingly confused by her behavior. Or so, that's what she interpreted it as.

She'd gotten the week off to recover. Not only that, but they were to be heading to Crestwood to meet up with the Warden contact that Hawke had. Thankfully, the irritating mage had taken off on his own to get to the meeting place. Maxwell had been adamant about bringing her along, not wanting her out of his sight just yet.

Overprotective, that one.

Liz walked up the stairs from the lower courtyard, sighing as she did so. She'd asked Blackwall to teach her about woodcarving. Saying that she was a little 'rusty'. Erin had been good at carving wood and it'd been one of her passions. Something that seemed to pop up in her dreams from time to time. It was … some of the few things she knew about the young girl.

She figured that, she at least owed the Trevelyan that much. She was stuck in her body, afterall. Getting to know her would be the start of healing, she hoped. No matter how uncomfortable it made her.

The otherworlder took a seat on the railing that overlooked the healer's tents. The chill from the stone seeped through her tight leather pants and froze her butt. But she paid it no mind.

Liz had taken her place in this world. Erin Trevelyan. Maxwell's dearest little sister. Erin might as well have been dead. She was dead and her family didn't even get a chance to mourn. Because they all thought her still alive. And it was Liz's fault.

She'd already admitted to what she'd done back at the Spire.

How was she supposed to eventually tell them? How does one even approach the subject? Would telling them, in turn, get her killed? Would she even risk her life just because of the guilt she felt, gnawing at her insides, every day?

She wouldn't. She couldn't.

 _Because she was a damned coward._

The thought itself seemed to make the situation that much worse. She knew she could tell them, give them the closure they would likely need. Because not telling them would hurt more in the long run. But she didn't, simply because she was selfish.

Liz knew, right then, that if she wasn't as close as she was to Maxwell … it wouldn't hurt as much as it did. In fact, he would just be another person. Why would she care how he felt?

But it wasn't so.

Her thoughts were put on pause when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. "...Liz?"

The sound of her name, _her real name_ , was like heaven. The mage didn't know how much she yearned to hear it. Craved that one piece of herself, until then. The only reminder she had that she was from Earth. Not here. She slowly turned and stared at the owner of the voice, her vision blurry.

The rogue said nothing, simply taking a seat next to her on the wall. She paid no heed to how close he was. So close that his thigh and arm pressed against hers. She could feel his body shift as his other leg tapped against the stone in a rhythmic pattern.

* * *

 **Cole**

He had been drawn to his friend's growing distress. It was quiet, at first. Then it got loud, unrelenting. Like it was slowly consuming her from the inside. An old wound that refused to shut. Heal. So the young man had found himself seated next to her.

Cole knew from before, that simply sitting next to one another seemed to help. Sometimes they would talk, or ask questions. But it was times like these, that simply being there was enough. He'd noticed this during their encounters as of late. Most of the time, she simply sought companionship. Silent confirmation that someone was there.

Another thing he noticed was the growing nervousness when he was around her.

He'd attributed that to his worry for the mage. She'd been experiencing brief bouts of depression and anger as of late. It showed itself in odd ways. Thankfully she wasn't the type to lash out and take it out on other people. Unfortunately, she took it out on herself. Directing her pain inward and hurting herself. Pulling herself down and moping. Sulking.

He paused, his humming stopped, when he felt her head rest upon his shoulder. The rogue froze and turned to her, surprised. Cole's body was as stiff as a board, not knowing what to do when he turned to see Liz asleep. He didn't want to wake her up.

The rogue flushed, trying to suppress how much he wanted to fidget and pull at the hems of his clothing.

Instead, he sat there. Awkwardly.

For what seemed like minutes, he sat there and listened to the birds chirp in the tree behind them. Listened to the sound of Serana fretting about the wounded soldiers and sick civilians in the tents. Anything to keep his mind off of his urge to fidget.

Then, a snore.

Liz was a snorer, it seemed. Cole's lips twitched at the thought. Carefully, he shifted and pulled the woman into his lap. In a careful and fluid motion, he stood up and began walking toward the main hall. He made sure to keep them both hidden, cloaking himself in the Fade as he made his retreat. He knew that she wouldn't like to be teased by Maxwell or Varric.

When he set her in her bed, he couldn't help but stare at her peaceful face. Her expression was usually one of forced indifference or boredom. Brows knitted, hiding her frustration and pain. She always wore a mask.

But at that moment, she was quiet. His hand lingered on her shoulder for longer than it should have. He couldn't tear his gaze off of the bags underneath her eyes. Bags like bruises, that seemed only to grow day by day. It made her look older than she really was.

* * *

 **Liz**

They were supposed to leave the next day, but Liz thought she could at least get started on the basics of carving. Blackwall seemed to run it through to her after she told him she needed a refresher.

He'd been explaining the different tools used for carving. None of which she recognized. She knew about the knife, but didn't know about all of the little tools used in creating a piece of art.

Liz's finger slipped and she sliced a fine line across her fingertip. "Ouch."

"No, you're holding it wrong. You're supposed to anchor—Maker's balls, child. Now you've gone and cut yourself." He grumbled, pulling out a cloth from his pocket when he saw the blood coming out faster than expected. The otherworlder let out a hiss and went to put it into her mouth, only to have her wrist grabbed as the Warden wrapped a small cloth around the top. Stopping the bleeding.

"I may be a little bit rusty." Liz deadpanned, feeling guilty about lying to Blackwall.

"It's alright." He finished off the knot and turned back to the workstation, "We all make mistakes every now and then. Now put some dirt on it and try again."

"Actually, I would advise against that. Dirt can carry a lot of contaminants and would likely cause infection."

The Grey Warden simply sighed at her antics. Liz knew what he meant, but decided to make the smart assy comment anyway.

The rest of their time was spent in silence, with only the sound of shuffling and the scraping of wood. She'd started small, working on a block of wood the size of her palm. Though she'd had a mishap, she noticed that Erin's muscle memory made the intricate movements rather well. She'd, of course, made some small markings on the piece to indicate where the guidelines were for what she wanted. She'd seen Blackwall do the same, though his blocky figure was now actually looking like something. He was working on the top, which kind of looked like the head of a bird.

"We are going to head out soon, Erin." Maxwell called from the entrance of the barn, "What're you making?"

She shrugged and looked up when Blackwall shifted in her direction at her left. He was handing her the cases for the carving tools, which was a long piece of leather with pouches. She'd seen those, before. They would roll up and tie shut, to conserve space.

"Here, the ones you're using are my old set." He dropped the leather into her hand, "You can have 'em."

"What? But-" Liz was taken aback, not sure how to respond to the gift. "Aren't these tools expensive? Are you sure you want to just give them away?"

"I'm not just giving them away." The older man snorted, as if the thought was amusing. "This way I'll know they will be put to good use. Take em with you. Carving something keeps the mind from going astray."

Liz stared at him and nodded in understanding, "Thank you."

After that, the young woman vowed to do something in return for his generosity.

She cleaned up, wiping her shavings off the table and onto the floor. The other items were stashed safely in her bag, which was sitting on the other side of the barn. Liz tied it shut and flipped it over her shoulder, slowly walking into the stables to find Rin.

The blue beast was sitting in the stall, not having left for much more than to amble around the pasture sadly. It seemed Liz wasn't the only one taking the loss of Athras hard. She knew that she and the elder had quite a connection.

"Rin…?" She called, setting her bag down next to the stall as she leaned forward. The hart turned and showed Liz her rump, refusing to look at her. "I'm sorry. Do you… do you want me to leave you here for this trip? I am sure Maxwell would be willing to lend me a horse."

Rin shorted and pawed at the far end of the stall, before turning to look at the young mage.

"You knew him longer than me. I … can't imagine how hard this must be for you." Liz rested her chin on her arms, looking up at the animal. She turned and came face to face with the woman. She half expected the beast to snort and send snot and spit into her face. But instead, her soft muzzle came down and rested on Liz's forehead gently.

Like many other times, this time was no different. Feeling the intent of certain animals and people, that is. It was like it drifted into her head, like a cool breeze. Sorrow and pain. But most of all, the willingness to help the young woman.

"Are… are you sure?" She asked, lifting her head up and staring at the hart. Her response was to lick the mage across the face. Liz suppressed the urge to squeal as the whole left side of her face was covered in slobber.

Rin let out a nicker, which sounded oddly like a laugh.

"Haha, funny." The otherworlder wiped at her face furiously.

The animal put up no fight as she saddled her up. She, like Liz, seemed despondent. Not likely to return to their normal selves until the grieving period was over. As they sat near the gates, waiting for everyone to arrive atop their respective mounts. Liz heard the disapproving scoff from her left, by the barn.

She turned, seeing the Horsemaster. Dennet, she remembered his name was.

"Girl, that animal's barely been eating. How do you expect it to survive the trek to Crestwood?" He asked, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the old wooden wall.

"I asked her, first. She seemed alright with it." Was her simple answer, getting a raised brow out of the elderly man. As if to respond, Rin pawed at the ground and threw her head up and down. Almost as if nodding.

The young woman smirked down at the hart, hearing the Horsemaster mumble something about 'not being his horse anyway'. She sighed.

With that, the group left. Cassandra and Maxwell led the group, their horses ambled side by side. The young man had a map out, carefully balancing himself atop the saddle as he squinted down at the parchment. Varric and Cole were conversing quietly as they followed. Solas and Liz were the only ones not speaking, simply sitting there and watching the scenery as it passed them by.

Soon enough, even the others grew silent. The only sound being hooves crunching through the crisp layer atop the snow. It was partially cloudy, the sun occasionally hiding behind a stray cloud. But mostly it beat down on their backs, helping keep them warm as they continued on their journey near the base of the mountain. Liz couldn't wait until they hit an actual road, not really liking how bumpy and difficult the terrain was. Especially after hearing Rin hadn't been eating. She didn't want to overwork the hart, even though they didn't really get along much.

The trip to Crestwood was to take another week, it seemed. A week of nonstop travel around Lake Calenhad, using the Imperial Highway. Once they reached the base of the mountain and later being able to see the lake as it sparkled in the distance. The weather was warm enough to warrant green foliage. Scenery changed as they continued, slowly becoming greener and more lush as they went on. It was a nice change as opposed to the dull monochromatic theme that came with the snowy Frostbacks.

Most nights, the mage was silent. Either carving on her own to keep her mind busy, or feeding and caring for the animals. But that night, as they neared the top of the lake, they set up camp and she took a seat not far from the fire. It'd been awhile since she's done the exercises Athras had told her to do. To learn how to control her magic.

So she sat, feeling the familiar pull of magic within her. Welling up in her stomach and chest, only to expand and buzz beneath her skin. Lightning erupted from her fingertips and she let it dance between her hands. She didn't see it as controlling it, simply sending it suggestions. Trusting it to listen. So it melded to her will. She allowed it to be what it was. She was even able to form a ball of energy before she was interrupted.

"You have an affinity for storm magic, I see." The voice spoke, breaking her concentration. The ball of energy dissipated into a shower of sparks. Liz turned and looked up, seeing the bald apostate. He shook his head and slowly took a seat on a log next to her. She was far enough from the fire to keep her nerves under control. She'd learned how to keep herself warm using her magic, thanks to Athras. Which helped immensely, since she avoided fires like they were the plague.

Liz sighed, "Yes."

"It is not an easy element to control. Most find fire to be the easiest. It is simple to conjure with a high influx of emotions, letting it burn out of control if gone unchecked." He explained, getting a slight wince out of the young mage. "Even so, you seem more apt to conjure electricity. Which can be just as, if not more, volatile than fire."

"I prefer it. It listens to me more than the other elements. Coming to my aid with a flick of the wrist." As if to make a point, she spread her fingers and let the energy dance between them harmlessly. "Fire… fire has only ever taken from me. Stolen all that I love and care about. I don't much like fire."

She didn't know why she was being so much more open as of late. On one hand it was disconcerting. On the other, it kind of felt good to just let loose and speak her mind. She was torn. Solas examined her. She could feel his eyes trying to bore holes in her head, as if trying to find something. Why was he here, anyway?

"Why do you think that is?" Solas inquired, getting a raised brow out of the woman.

"Well, I'd like to imagine it's likely because I've trained diligently in my chosen element. It would be hard, otherwise." She snorted, letting him know she was being snarky and not just being a bitch. The elf's lips twitched, as if he'd been about to smirk. Instead, he straightened and looked at the group. Most of whom, were busy chatting around the fire. Her spirit friend was nowhere to be seen.

"Your grasp on this world is remarkable."

She gave him an odd look, feeling a bit offended.

"Young as I may be, it doesn't mean I am less apt to understanding the complexities this world has to offer." She bristled a bit as she spoke. Solas' head snapped in her direction, a slight widening of his eyes. It was only for a brief second, before it disappeared and he nodded.

"Right, my apologies." He murmured softly. It was then that Liz noticed that he'd been acting odd around her ever since Athras had passed away. Ever since she was forced to kill her friend. He's been hovering, if not volunteering to keep watch over her as she slept. He was usually within her line of sight.

What was the man up to?

Liz stared at the apostate suspiciously as he stood up and brushed his rump off, sending wood shavings onto the ground.

"Another time, my friend." He bowed his head slightly and turned, walking off toward the group.

She sat in confused silence, before she was approached yet again.

"He worries, wondering – wanting to know more about you. It's hard. Sometimes he thinks about how you sounded when your magic took control. When you were almost lost to them." Liz jumped at the soothing sound of Cole's voice, not having heard his approach.

"...What?" She asked, trying to still her beating heart. _'It's just Cole, calm down.'_

"He put up a barrier before the world turned to ash, swallowed by hues of red and orange. Your mind broke, that day." Cole walked into view, having been somewhere behind her. Liz patted the log where Solas had once sat. He tilted his head down, the shadow of his hat covering most of his face. "But you're back. You always come back. Even when it hurts so much you want to stay. Why?"

"Because… Because Elise would be disappointed in me if I just gave up." The mage shook her head, watching as the rogue crouched so that he was eye level with her instead. His arms rested on his knees as he picked at the ends of his sleeves. "What about you? You tried to kill me, back at the Spire. Yet here you are, trying to be my friend. Do you pity me?" _'Do you think, that maybe if you help me… you can atone for your sins? Is that all I am to you?'_ Was what she wanted to say, but she kept her mouth sealed.

"No, that's not it." His blue eyes widened from underneath his mass of hair. "You're like me-"

Liz snorted, "Hardly."

"Yes." He sounded firm as he spoke, eyes hardening. "You want to help, but you're afraid. You want to change. I can hear it, in here."

Cole poked her chest and she flinched at the sudden contact. _'But I can't.'_

"You can."

She was afraid. So so afraid that it hurt. The thought that she might end up like her mentor. Her Hahren. Possessed and dead, having to be killed by those she loved—it was an unbearable thought.

"He was proud of you." Cole said and Liz could feel her heart clench. As if sensing it, the spirit spoke swiftly, stuttering on. " _'Thank you… Da'len.'_ He didn't mean for it to happen. It was spreading inside of him, eating away at him. Harder. Harder. Can't breathe. Too weak."

The young woman stared at her hands, which clenched her fur pelt like it was a lifeline. She fought against the tears, but it seemed for naught.

"I'm sorry. I can't keep doing this to you." She wiped at her eyes.

"You're letting us help." The rogue let a ghost of a smile pass on his features, before it disappeared. His gaze drifted from her and back to the group, who were sharing stories around the fire. She could hear their laughter in the background. Yes, she was letting them help. Wasn't she?

In an attempt to change the subject, the mage dug around on her belt and unclipped her dagger. His dagger. Cole stiffened and looked back at her, staring down at the familiar brass dagger he'd used back at the Spire.

"I kept it." She fiddled with it, turning it in her hands and watching how the light from the fire glinted off of it. "I usually keep tokens of incidents in my life where I've almost died. These pelts I'm wearing were of wolves who almost killed me when I was out hunting. This belt is from a man that tried to steal my things. This dagger… almost killed me."

The otherworlder held it out to him, hilt first. He stared at it like it was going to bite him. His eyes fluttered up to hers, then back down at it. His fingertips grazed the hilt and he flinched, letting it rest in his palm. Almost hesitantly.

Liz knew it probably brought back bad memories. But she hoped that he could see-

"The arrow was lodged in her shoulder, but you dug it out and saved her. Mending. Mild ministrations—mother of three. She would have died otherwise." He turned it around and seemed to concentrate, "I can hear them. The people you helped, healed. The good washes out the bad. I almost can't hear..."

"I hoped so."

"But you need it?"

"I bought a new one. Keep it. It has sentimental value, does it not? I saw the way you looked at it back-" Her throat closed up and she looked way when the pained look creeped up onto his features. "Back then."

"It was Cole's. The Real Cole's. His mother's dagger. She kept it buried, hidden. Just in case." He explained, holding the thing close to his chest.

"You didn't have to tell me."

"You wanted to know." The lanky rogue stated simply, "I thought I was his ghost, back then. I didn't know what I was. It was hard. But I saw. I reached out to the Real Cole and… became him. I'm not real."

So then, what was she? If he wasn't real because he took the place of the real Cole? She wasn't Erin, by any means. Far from it, in fact.

The rogue seemed to notice the impending spiral, "N-No, I d-didn't. I didn't mean—I just. I made another knot, I'm sorry!"

"It's fine. I understand how you feel. If you need to talk about it, I'm here." Liz saw how he seemed to fidget uncomfortably at the suggestion, "You don't have to. But it's only fair, since you've helped me. You can't just not allow me to return the favor."

"But..."

"No. Friendship doesn't work that way, Cole. It's a two way street." She crinkled her nose, "You help me? I get to help you."

He seemed almost unsure, confused at the prospect someone even wanted to go through the trouble. Liz could understand that sentiment. It'd been a hard concept for her to grasp, as well.

"Why?" An honest question from the rogue.

"Friends care for one another. Friends...should be there." Liz turned away from him and looked up at the dark night sky. The trees framed her view of the twinkling sight, "Always."

They sat in silence for a bit, the young man having taken a seat next to her. He watched the skies and listened to the rustle of the trees as the wind blew through their hair. It was serene, quiet. When Liz looked back at the rogue, he was calmer. Posture looser. Though she couldn't see his eyes underneath all of that hair.

Cole turned toward the small mage and offered a soft smile, "Thank you."

A smile which, without even realizing, she returned. "I don't intend to go anywhere."


	15. Crestwood and Back Again

"Crestwood and Back Again"

Cole honestly wasn't sure how to feel when it was reversed like this. He felt uneasy, unsure. Liz reached out to him oftentimes, seemingly knowing when there was something bothering him. He'd learned this during their time in Crestwood. She couldn't hear like he could, but she could _see_. She just knew. Not just with him, but with others too.

It was hard, seeing the dead walking around like that. Seeing all of the spirits displaced and the people hurt. Scared, wanting nothing than to get out. He didn't like it. Because no matter how much he tried, he couldn't help them all. There was only one of him and too many of them.

This only seemed to encourage the young mage to begin helping those in the village, volunteering as they went to meet with the Warden contact. Cole stayed, too. Feeling responsible for the woman's change in demeanor. Was she doing it to help him, too? The thought made him nervous, anxious.

Liz exited the house, heaving a sigh and cracking her neck. "That's done."

Cole scooted closer, trying to get a read on her. But she was far away, dim. Like the water was cloudy and murky.

"What's wrong? You only look at me like that when you want to dig around in my head." She stated plainly, causing him to flinch. She paid no mind to the way the heavy rain soaked her even further. Her cheeks and nose were red, hair plastered to the side of her face as she looked up at him.

The rogue, for the most part, remained untouched by the rain. His hat acted as a sort of umbrella. He diverted his eyes underneath her piercing gaze. All he heard was a sigh.

"Look, you didn't have to stay here. These people have gone far too long without medical attention. What with the outbreak of undead and all. Makes things a bit difficult." She mumbled as she walked passed him, her feet squishing into the muddy road. "You can help me, if you'd like. I'm better with the body. I see you work with the mind."

"Yes." He spoke softly, trailing behind the woman as she walked to the next house with purpose.

' _These people could use a little compassion. That, I am not good at.'_ The woman thought sadly, drawing a frown out of the rogue.

Before he could reach out and tell her otherwise, she knocked on the door. Seconds passed before it was opened, revealing an older woman. She waved the two in, closing it behind them and muffling the sounds of the raging storm. It was much warmer inside. He could tell, by the way Liz's shivering slowly began to decrease. The fire in the pit at their left flickered, the sounds of wind bombarding the house made the old shack groan.

"I'm a healer from the Inquisition. Maya told me to stop by." Liz folded her hands, wringing them as she talked to the elderly woman. Cole watched, feeling the relief pour off of the elder when she heard the name of her neighbor.

"I knew the Maker would answer my prayers. You must be with the blessed Herald of Andraste." The elder put her wrinkled hand on Liz's shoulder, a sparkle of hope in her grey eyes. "It's my husband. He fell sick a few days ago. Come come."

She hobbled toward the back of the small shack, through the arch in the back which lead to the only bedroom. Cole was going to follow the mage into the room when his leg was attacked and he stumbled back.

"Mister! Are you here to help my papa?" He looked down, bewildered. He hadn't noticed the young girl, her big innocent eyes sparkling up at him. She was maybe 8 years old, wavy brown hair falling passed her dirty shoulders.

The rogue could feel his lips turning, a soft smile on his face as he nodded down at the young girl. He crouched, "Yes. We are with the Inquisition. Her brother sent us to help the village."

At that, the girl seemed to brighten even more. If at all. "Wow, she's the sister of the Herald! That's so cool!"

Cole nodded, happy to see the girl so excited. Even with the events happening around her. He hoped she would be okay through it all.

"My daddy went to help, too. Sometimes he sends my grandma letters." She smiled, hopping over toward the firepit. She grabbed something from the worn wooden floor, her little fingers fumbling with the item. It looked to be a leather string with beads. A necklace of sorts. She'd been working on it tirelessly, he could tell. Especially when the young girl handed it to him, setting it softly into his cold hands. "Can you give this to my daddy and tell him that Amelia misses him really much."

He could feel it, tugging at a memory. The necklace helped, whispering and connecting with an Inquisition soldier stationed somewhere in the south. In the Hinterlands. Alive and well. "Erick is safe but struggling – yearning to be home with his heart. His love. He misses you, too."

"You know my daddy?" She asked, tears in her eyes.

"Yes. He loves you very much." He reminded her, feeling the pain deep in her heart. It almost wasn't there. But it caught, like a thorn on a sleeve. "He _wants_ to come home."

He heard the sound of approaching footfalls.

"Alright, Cole. It's time to go." Liz spoke from above him, getting a nod in response. He blinked. That was quick.

"Thank you. You and your husband are welcome in my home anytime." The elderly woman grabbed and held Liz's hand, grateful for her help. Amelia blinked up at her grandma while Cole waved his hand, feeling his face heat up at the comment. Their eyes went blank for the briefest of seconds as he pulled at the Fade, putting things back to what they were.

"My husband? He's not-" She choked on her words, "What gives you that impression?"

"Your what?" The elderly woman asked, confused. It took merely seconds before the mage understood what just happened and she shook her head.

"Apologies, it must be the cold getting to my head. I need to go, though." Liz shook her hand and opened the old wooden door, stepping out into the rain with a huff. She turned to the rogue with a sour look on her face. "Did you have to make them forget? I saw you conversing with that little girl. It wouldn't kill you to make a couple of friends."

"But I have friends. I have you."

"I— _erk_ —that's – well." She stumbled for the right word, running her hand over her face in frustration. "I know, but. Sometimes it's nice to know people care. You being that person wouldn't hurt them."

"But I'm just here to help, heal the hurts. I just put it back the way it was. The way it should be." He shifted on his feet, looking down at the small woman. "I'm not supposed to be—I'm not real."

Liz reached up and pinched his cheek, getting a startled squeak out of the rogue. "Ow!"

"Does that hurt?"

"Y-Yes."

"Do you bleed?"

"Yes."

"You hurt, you bleed, you have feelings—just like any other person. You're as real as I am." She pulled on his cheek again, gaining another squeak before she let go. Cole rubbed his face, a slight pout on his features. Now it was her turn to shift awkwardly, her gaze softening. "I know… it's hard. I feel it, too. But we… we _are_ people, too. You have to believe that. _I_ have to believe that. We are different, not supposed to be part of this world. But that doesn't make us any less than them."

It was silent for awhile, her hurt hidden. Guarded. She reached out to him and wrapped her little cold fingers around his hand. As if trying to relay what she was trying to get across. That's when he saw. She was so adamant about it because the way he saw himself was how she sometimes saw herself. The same. Yet not.

It hurt. Seeing others shun him for what he was. Who he was. She didn't see him as anything other than another person, which caused him to look down at their joined hands. His lips screwed into a frown, doubt flooding him. "But I'm a demon."

"Are you?" She asked a simple question and he peeked up. The rain was still falling hard, pounding relentlessly on the young mage as she stared underneath his hat. Was he? Solas called him Compassion. A spirit. But back at the Spire, he'd been revealed. Demon. Which was it?

"Spirit. I want it to be spirit." He admitted, focusing on how her hand seemed to warm up when it was in his. "I'll …. try."

"That's all I can ask." She let go, pushing some of her ash brown hair out of her face. Cole stared at her hand as it fell back at her side, resisting the urge to grab onto it again. "It'd be kind of hypocritical of me to ask you to change your views overnight. I'm still trying, too."

Liz brushed passed the rogue, heedless to the puddles at her feet as they splashed and squished between her toes.

Then, he snagged onto something. His eyes widened, "You trust me?"

She froze and turned to him, embarrassment leaking through.

"Y-Yes." The otherworlder stuttered before turning back around, heading toward the entrance to the village. "Maybe it's stupid. Maybe it's not. But what happened back then… we were both in a dark place. _'You can't reach for what's in front of you, until you let go of what's behind you.'_ Words of wisdom to live by. You live, you learn, you move on."

Athras.

Cole could feel the pain that the words brought her, but she stood strong. Displaying them for him to see. For him to feel and learn, just as she had.

* * *

Everything seemed eerily calm, even after the group was done in Crestwood. The mayor had fled underneath the duo's noses, his guilt pulling and eating away at him. They'd drained the lake and closed the rift, causing the dead to be at peace.

The sun breached the clouds in what seemed like days. Probably weeks, for the residents of the area. Happy, some of them even ran outside and began dancing in the puddles. Relishing in the warmth that beat down on their faces from the long lost light.

Cole was happy. Some of them wouldn't have been able to celebrate the change, had it not been for his friend. She'd worked tirelessly, going from door to door. Lucky that she'd brought enough supplies.

So they were off.

The rogue's hat provided shade as he rode Ellie, his horse, next to Rin. The blue beast carried most of the equipment and didn't seem to mind much. Liz, however, was flying above. The two seemed to be getting along better, since their departure from Skyhold. Since Athras. Their hurts still sang deep, eating at their thoughts.

Liz let out a loud distressed caw, breaking him out of his musings.

"Watch out!" Cole called, hopping off of Ellie and brandishing his weapons threateningly. The others seemed to follow suit, getting ready for what was to come.

It was maybe a split second before a group of men jumped out of the trees, asking them to hand over whatever they had. The armored bandits were imposing as they pointed their weapons at the group, archers in the back ready to fire.

Not having any of it, Solas threw up an ice wall and evened out the odds. Their group successfully split, everyone jumped into a flurry of battle. Even so, it didn't take the archers long before they appeared on either side of the wall and began firing upon the party.

Thankfully by then, Cole was already behind them as he pounced in and speared one of them in the back of the head. Quick and painless. The assassin made quick work of most of them, his footwork like a dance. All he had to do was listen. Let his body pull him where he needed to go.

"Inquisitor!" The Seeker yelled through the ruckus. The scales were tipping out of their favor. Enemies lay in the middle of the road, blood seeping through their armor. But it was Maxwell that caught the attention of the rogue as he pulled his dagger out of a bandit's neck with a sickening squelch.

The Inquisitor fell to the ground from a rather devastating blow to his side, his hand holding the wound and trying to stop the bleeding. Cassandra let out a war cry that sounded oddly like an enraged yell and charged.

Then Liz appeared, tufts of black feathers fluttered around her body as she morphed back into human form and slammed her staff into the ground on the other side of the Inquisitor's body.

Barriers sprung up, muffling any incoming damage. But for that split second, that one slow moving second, he couldn't take his eyes off of the fierce look on her face. The way the sun seemed to reflect off of her eyes, making them appear brighter. Her glare and the way her messy brown hair fell into her face caused something inside of his chest to ache.

She was brighter than usual. Fighting back the darkness. Her magic swelled and danced around her arms in defense, protecting her brother.

In that moment he saw a little light.

And then everything started moving again, and she dropped to her knees to get to work on her brother. Hands moving fast with a deft efficiency only experience on the field had to offer. Cole got back to work, making sure to linger in front. Keeping them away from the Trevelyan siblings.

She swung her staff and the air around them seemed to shift and crackle. A loud hiss and everything in their vicinity lit up, chain lightning connected and stunned their enemies. This left an opening for the others as they capitalized on their moment of distress.

Screams and ripping of flesh filled the air and Cole traded places with Liz, almost fluidly. They moved around one another and she flung herself forward, dipping and dodging out of their haphazard strikes. Still recovering.

Blood spurted from her arm, gaining a hiss out of the mage. Cole parried a lance that was about to hit him and he spun, swinging his daggers in a deadly dance. Pushing the danger away from their fallen Inquisitor.

' _ **Crack!'**_ Thunder roared through the air, an instant smell of burnt flesh following.

The rogue ducked under a swing and leaped up, sending his dagger underneath his jaw. He heard a sickening crunch as he twisted and yanked it out. The hot substance sprayed out in an arc, hitting him in the face and staining his pale locks.

Then silence. He heard his friends huffing from overexertion. The rogue turned, seeing the others already asking about one another's wellbeing. Cassandra and Liz crowded the Inquisitor. Solas wasn't far behind, attempting to lend his aide.

Liz was already crouched, hands moving to assess his injuries. The Inquisitor chuckled and winced as he tried to sit up, his eyes landing on his sister.

"See? I knew you knew how to fight." He breathed, barely able to hold himself upright.

"How else would I have survived all of these years?" She asked him and put her hand on his shoulder, "Don't move, let me look at that."

* * *

 **Liz**

His injuries were bad enough that they had to stop for the night. Liz had long since stemmed the bleeding, with the assistance of Solas. Though if the elf hadn't been there, she wasn't sure how well she would have done. Panic. Something that she hadn't felt at such an intensity for awhile, now.

The young woman chewed on her fingernails as she leaned against a tree. She watched them joke and tell stories next to the fire, as per usual. The young mage felt no urge to join. No ache to be closer. To be important. Not like she thought she would, anyway.

"Hey, Sunny." It was Varric who approached her, his short form ambling in her direction away from the group. She stared down at him and scrunched her eyebrows.

"Why is 'Sunny' my nickname and not 'Zap' or 'Zappy'?" Liz asked, wriggling her fingers and letting the electricity dance around in her hand. The small amount of purple light danced across their features. He simply gave a self-satisfied shrug.

"I dunno, guess it just stuck. You don't pick the names, they pick you." He explained and began to readjust his glove, "Anyway, enough of that. I was just wonderin' if you wanted to grab an ale sometime, maybe a bite to eat."

She rose a brow, "Please don't tell me you're hitting on me, Varric. I don't have time for that stuff."

"Way to shoot a guy down." He just let out a hearty chuckle. "No no, I just wanted to talk is all. Besides, I've got Bianca." He explained and pointed at his crossbow that rested innocently on his back.

Liz sighed and looked up at the sky. She always looked up, longing to see familiarity. One moon, The Big Dipper, Orion's Belt. But nothing.

"Look, no need to get all broody on me. Just thought you looked all lonely all the way out here." The dwarven rogue spoke, almost hesitantly. "You always run off. Why don't you come and join us, maybe listen to a story or two."

"...I think I'm good, Varric." She replied quietly, gaze slipping from the sky and down to him. "I will take you up on your offer, though. Perhaps when we get back to Skyhold and settle in. It's been awhile and I could use a strong drink."

* * *

And she definitely did.

Liz took another gulp from her cup, relishing in how fuzzy her thinking was becoming. Usually she was over thinking things and fretting about this and that.

But at that moment?

The young mage leaned back and relaxed to the sound of the Herald's Rest. Her spirit friend was somewhere up top, probably watching everyone as they drank and milled about. He, like her, had his limits with people. Too much sound and activity sometimes became too much.

Varric sat across from her. He'd been sharing stories of Hawke's shenanigans with her and she had a few things to tease him about if he ever came back to bother her. Unfortunately, the scraggly Champion had walked in shortly after the story. So she couldn't hear more.

Hawke kept his comments mostly to himself as he sat beside the dwarf. Mostly. "You know … I didn't take you for a drinker, short stack."

"I don't, usually." She ignored his comment on her height.

"Heyyy. Trevelyan isn't the only one that survived the conclave, ya know?" Jade slurred as she jutted her arm out, mug sloshing around and getting all over the table. This caught the trio's attention. She stood up, and even in her inebriated state, she pounced and landed on all fours. Akin to a cat. She stated dramatically, "So, there I was..."

She went on to explain just how she'd 'survived' the blast. Though any idiot would be able to tell she was embellishing like no tomorrow. Varric, for the most part, appeared amused as he smirked behind his tankard. Her tale of fighting against demons and saving children seemingly having no end. All the while keeping the 'Mistress Serana' safe as they made their trek to Haven.

"And then I was like, BOO-YA! Get wrecked, fuckers!" She attempted to stand tall as she cackled maniacally. A few people had walked away, losing interest in her 'story'. "Them demons didn't stand a chance against me."

The dwarf sniffed and brushed off her shoulder, but didn't stop there. The few that stayed, looked completely enamored by her story. Their drunken state likely contributing to this fact.

"So… Sunny, how much of this is even true?"

"Not much, honestly. She was too drunk to make it to the Conclave in time." Liz replied with a snort. "During our lessons, Serana told me as such."

Apparently the two had been friends before the explosion at the Conclave, so they'd met on their way and… ended up set back. Fortunately for them. Serana had said the dwarf was insistent on drinking as opposed to walking to their destination.

"Figures. For a dwarf, she's not really that good at lying." Varric chuckled good-naturedly. "At least she's good at something, though."

"Cooking?" She'd stated this instantly, remembering the familiar taste of Jade's meals. Even with as little as they had, the woman somehow found a way to make the food delicious.

"That and stabbing people." He said, but she could tell he was hiding a smile behind his tankard as he took a huge swig.

"Pfff." Liz took a drink of her own.

Liz liked Varric. It was rather easy to just sit down and have a casual conversation with him. When he wasn't surrounded by people listening to his tales of grandeur, that is. Once the young mage had gotten to know him better, she found herself almost loosening up around the dwarf. He seemed to have that effect on people, it seemed. Due to his laid back attitude.

"Whoa whoa, you need to slow down there. You're not as dense as I am, it's going to go straight through ya."

"Heh heh, lightweight." Hawke jabbed, finishing his cup as if to show off.

"Meh." She waved them off, a flush to her cheeks.

"I'd actually meant to ask you about some things, but you're already this far gone. It just wouldn't be fair." The dwarf drummed his fingers on the old table.

"Oh, a rogue with morals? Do tell." Liz joked and grinned, "Just kidding. Cole is a rogue and he's a good guy. I'd trust him. With my _life_." Then she cackled, as if at an inside joke.

"Yeah, you're completely sloshed. You don't tell jokes. _Or_ give compliments." Varric took a savage bite out of his stale bread and Liz let out a chuckle-snort. "Speaking of the Kid, I hear you guys are friends."

"Pfff _yeah_ , I'm surprised too. The fucker almost killed me. But we're cool. Bygones be bygones and all that stuff." Liz dug around in her ears idly, picking at her earwax. She pulled some out and stared at it blankly, then looked back up at the dwarf. The man looked surprised. Hawke was staring at her, horrified. "What? I haven't cleaned my ears in ages. Don't judge me."

"No, that's not—wait. He tried to kill you? When?"

She could have sworn she heard the Champion mutter something about her being crazy. Maybe she was.

"Back at the White Spire. Didn't he tell you? You're almost like… his dad or something." She sighed and leaned back, "Why don't I do this more often? It feels great. _I feel great._ "

"You're… gonna have to tell me that story. Now you've got me quivering with curiosity."

"Auuuughhhh." She groaned and leaned her head back, "I'm bad at telling stories. Ask Cole."

"Ask me what?"

It was always as if he appeared whenever needed. Kind of like that butler from Mr Deeds. Liz chuckled to herself at that thought.

"He wants to know about when you tried to kill—wait, remember when you grabbed my boob?" She snorted and slammed her hand on the table, "Gods that was hilarious. You should have seen your face."

"Before or after you probably punched the Kid for it?" Varric drawled, looking completely lost. Cole's face was reddening, though she couldn't tell if it was because of her comment or the warmth of the Rest.

"Yes?" She slurred and finished her fourth serving of alcohol. She eyed the empty container, "It doesn't taste like piss anymore..."

" _That's_ when you know you need to stop. Andraste's ass, Sunny. You need to learn your limits." He took the tankard away and frowned at the drunken mage. She looked at him like a child that got her toy taken away. "You should probably escort her to her room, Kid. She's not gonna last long."

"Hey, Cole. Wanna pet me?"

"W-What?" The lanky rogue stuttered and Varric spit out his ale, coughing at the sudden comment. Cole seemed to get what she meant and his mouth opened in an 'ohhh'. And with that, the woman screwed her face in concentration. Almost crossing her eyes in the process. But she was rewarded with her body slowly shrinking. Smaller and smaller.

Then there she was, sitting on the chair as a grey tabby. Varric seemed to realize, too. His shocked expression morphing into amusement. Then came the laughter, as the cat wobbled and tried to jump onto Cole's chest. Only to miss and fall onto the ground. Evidently cats don't always land on their feet. Especially when they were as inebriated as she was.

"A-Ah, Liz. Are you okay?" Cole tried to bend over to pick her up, but she flopped around like a fish out of water. A glass crashed somewhere at their right, causing the cat to startle and jump into the air. She darted off in a random direction. Surprisingly, weaving through the legs of the patrons. "Wait!"

She heard his voice slowly fade into the background of all the commotion and that was the last thing she remembered that night.

* * *

The next thing Liz knew, she was waking up. Her eyes were crusted together and her head was pounding like a thousand jackhammers had decided to make their way into her skull. She opened her eyes, almost wanting to cry when the bright sunlight from the window decided to attack her eyes.

The young woman let out a groan. Or, what she thought would be a groan. Instead it sounded like a low growl.

"Meow?" She meant to say, _'What?'_

That's when she realized she was still in her cat form. The otherworlder staggered up onto all fours, head lolling as she tried to right herself. It felt like the floor was moving up and down, causing her to stumble a few steps and lay back down. Her ears drooped.

' _Oh, Gods. What on Earth was I thinking?'_ She thought to herself, feeling like absolute crap. She made a vow, then. Never drink that much in one sitting. Erin's body couldn't handle it. Back on Earth? Probably. She was taller and fluffier, stronger. Her body would have been able to handle it with no problems.

But Erin's body was small.

A snore erupted from someone's mouth just behind her, causing her to jump two feet into the air. Her body flopped onto the worn wooden floor with a, _**'Thump!'**_

She lay there, quietly. Afraid she was going to wake up these unknown people. Nothing. More snores. When the grey tabby peeked up again, she saw that she was in the middle of a room. Probably in the Herald's Rest, if the windows were anything to go by.

The room practically permeated sweat and booze, causing a wave of nausea to ripple through the little mage as she made her way toward the door. She recognized a couple of the sleeping faces, most of which consisted of Bull's Chargers. Varric was among them. In fact, he was the one she had been sleeping on.

The door creaked open, a piece of leather slowly peeped in. Followed by a face. Cole's face. He looked concerned. He whispered, "Liz?"

She blinked blearily at him, ears still droopy. _'Salvation!'_ She thought, feeling relief at seeing her friend. _'Sweet baby Jesus, get me out of this place.'_

As if hearing her pleas, the rogue stepped in silently and picked the tabby up. Her body rocked and swayed as he walked through the Rest. Her head felt like it was going to explode by the time they exited through the front door. The sun was barely making it's ascent into the sky, the wind biting into her face. Despite the fur that covered her body.

She thought her head was going to explode. But evidently it was something else. Another wave of nausea rippled through, full throttle. The otherworlder launched herself out of Cole's arms, barely aware of how her body shifted back into her human form.

Liz stumbled and caught herself on a nearby tree, the contents of the night spewing onto the green foliage. Her fingers dug into the bark with every painful heave. Faintly, she felt her hair being pushed out of the way. Courtesy of her rogue friend.

After they began to subside, she muttered a weary, "Thanks, Cole."

The mage coughed, feeling the tears springing to her eyes. What in Heaven's name happened last night? Her skin buzzed as the young man pushed her hair behind her ear. She pushed back the thoughts that wanted to invade her mind as she turned to look at him.

"You made them happy. They've never seen a cat dance, before. The Iron Bull likes cats."

"Oh, God. I was dancing?" Liz wiped at her face and cringed. If from the news or the smell and taste of bile, she wasn't sure. Cole nodded, a small smile quirking its way onto his face. The young woman felt her stomach flutter, her gaze shifting away from his.

"T-Thank you, but you don't have to go out of your way."

"Your legs won't listen to you. Sluggish and numb. You _need_ my help." He protested, holding onto her hand and leading her across the upper courtyard.

"I don't need anything." Liz huffed halfheartedly, catching sight of a certain warrior as she descended the steps from the main hall. The Seeker paused at the base of the staircase, flabbergasted at the young woman's ragged appearance.

"Good morning, Cassandra." The mage croaked, hoping that she didn't look half as bad as she sounded.

"Maker, Erin. You… look unwell." The warrior put a hand to her mouth, taking in her appearance. Apparently her wishes were for naught. She probably _did_ look as bad as she sounded.

"I may have gone overboard last night." Liz explained, shifting her weight on another foot. Her hand grasped at Cole's sleeve and she forced herself to think about the task at hand. "I didn't know my limits."

The Seeker appeared to be trying to hide her amusement, but Liz could see the small twitch of her lips. "I think we all go through that at some point, I believe. I hope you begin to feel well."

The mage put a hand on her face, "Me too."

"I will send for somebody to draw you a bath. Perhaps it would … help." Cassandra's nose wrinkle at her obvious stench was almost imperceptible. With that, the warrior was off toward her usual training area.

Liz staggered, supported by Cole, as they made their way up the stairs and through the main hall. There wasn't much going on and it was uncharacteristically quiet. She was glad that there wasn't anyone she knew, lest they make an assumption as she clung to the rogue like he was a lifeline. She let out a breath as they neared the entrance to the Trevelyan Quarters.

The stained glass set the throne area in colorful hues. The beautiful windows had been custom made, courtesy of the Ambassador's connections.

"Blackwall can help, too. He-"

Before Cole could continue the mage spoke, knowing his tendencies. "Please ask before you take, Cole."

"I—yes. I will. Thank you." He stuttered as the door clicked shut behind them. Liz stared at the flight of stairs and suppressed a groan. Another flight of stairs. She turned to the young man and rose a brow at his statement.

"Why are you thanking me?"

"You are teaching me, showing me how to do things right. Sometimes I do it wrong. I don't mean to." He elaborated and Liz could feel her muscles protesting as they made it to the top of the stairs. She wobbled to the couch and flopped onto it with a groan.

"I'm never drinking again." Her voice was muffled by the white cushions.

The young woman faded in and out of consciousness. Occasionally awoken by the sound of someone shifting in the room. The last time she awoke, a blanket was laid atop her. People shuffled around near the top of the stairs in front of the fireplace, causing her to snort and sit up. The blanket fell, revealing a few servants filling a tub full of water. Another was behind, trying to light the fireplace.

"U-Uh, you don't have to light the fireplace." The youngest Trevelyan insisted, hoping that they wouldn't. Fire still set her on edge, even after all of this time. The fire from a fireplace or a campfire was no different. Her hairs stood on end at the thought of having to sit next to the destructive element for a bath.

"But… you will be cold." The woman stood up, looking at the little human oddly.

"I'd prefer it, thank you." With that, they finished up and began filing out of the room. Why they hadn't just put it in her room and not the living room was beyond her. Well, she called it a living room because that was pretty much what it was.

What if Maxwell walked in? Or someone else?

Not caring, the woman stood up and shuffled toward the tub. Her tanned fingertips grazed over the surface, checking the temperature. The clean water rippled underneath her touch and she shivered. It was freezing.

Fortunately, she'd been taught how to heat up water using her magic. Liz peeled off her clothing and winced, wondering just how ripe she smelled as she stepped into the waiting tub of water.

Liz let out a long sigh as she settled herself into the huge tub. It'd been far far too long since she'd had a hot bath. She's never had one in this world, for sure. It felt as thought her muscles relaxed and she was floating on a cloud. It warmed her right to her bones.

"Why hadn't I asked them to do this, before?" She mumbled, remembering the times she simply went to the public bathhouse to rinse off. The water was always cold and there were always far too many people there. At least they tried, right?

After the otherworlder was done scrubbing her scalp with her fingernails and washing her body, she leaned back and relaxed. Enjoying the warmth that was offered from the hot bath. Sometimes she had to rewarm it, but it wasn't that hard.

She was so relaxed, in fact, that she hadn't noticed that she fell back asleep again. She was jolted awake by the sound of the door slamming and heavy footfalls as someone ascended the stairs. The brunette felt her stomach drop. Especially when her brother's mop of black hair showed itself.

"Maxwell, wait-"

"Erin?" He turned, and his eyes widened. "I didn't know you were— _Andraste preserve me!"_ The young man's arms flew to his face and he turned around, "You're naked!"

He practically squeaked that last one.

Liz could only imagine how scarring it must have been to see their little sister in her birthday suit. But she believed him to be overreacting, since most of her body was submerged in water and out of sight.

She gripped the edge of the portable tub and frowned, "Really? Oh dear, where have my clothes run off to? Of course I'm naked, you dolt! I'm bathing."

"Couldn't you, I don't know, bathe in your room?" He was still facing the other direction, his arms flailed as he spoke. Liz let out a sigh and began to climb out of the tub, irritation itching in her chest. "Anyway, I'm about to head out again."

She wrapped herself in a large plush cloth that resembled a towel of some sort. "Where to, this time?"

"The Western Approach. The Wardens are up to something and we're going to find out—are you done yet?"

"No."

"Ugh. You'll be happy, Hawke is coming with. Why don't you guys get along, anyway? He's a good guy."

"I'd prefer not to answer that." Liz grabbed her pile of ripe clothes and furs, slowly made her way to her room. Her bare feet slapped against the cool stone. The otherworlder threw the pile on the floor in her room and began digging around in her dresser, heedless to Maxwell's footsteps as they neared her open door.

"You can still come with, if you want." He suggested from outside of her door. She thought about it for a moment, but decided against it when she remembered her friend needed help in the healing hut. They'd just recently finished renovating the small crumbly shack behind the Rest. It was big enough to house Adan's supplies and any materials they may have needed.

"Serana and Adan are having difficulties keeping up with the influx of injured. I think I'll stay behind this time." She slipped a tunic on after she got done binding her breasts.

"It's not because of Hawke?"

"No, it's not because of Hawke."

"Would it make you feel better if I left Cole?"

"W-Why would that matter?" She peeked out, now fully dressed in a tunic and some leather pants. Maxwell grinned and looked down at her reddening face. If at all possible, his grin seemed to get even wider at her expression.

"Aaahhh! I knew it." He poked her in the sides teasingly, "I knew it. I knew it."

"What the—would you stop that?! What are you talking about?" Liz squeaked, pushing his hands away angrily.

"I may be half blind, _but I can see it_. You like him, don't you?" The young man may have been teasing, but she saw the weariness in his eyes. The concern. Liz scrunched her nose in response, but didn't say anything. Maxwell continued, "Look, I'm not going to judge you on your preferences. But he's a spirit and you're a mage. That's a bit… dangerous, don't you think? I trust him, but-"

"Where on Earth did you get that notion?" She snapped, stopping his spiel. "I may be young, but I am not naive. Feelings like that are incredibly dangerous, Maxwell. It's how people get killed. Love is a weakness that people can exploit." Liz paused, feeling her heart squeeze. "I don't tolerate weakness."

With that, he stepped back. Surprised at her admission on the subject. Liz felt strongly about it. She'd made that promise to herself long ago, that she wouldn't risk her heart in a place like this. Upon her arrival, she never even thought it a possibility. The people here were much too different for her liking, as it was.

She turned away, feeling bitterness taking hold. She would admit, however. She did feel _something_ toward the rogue. Perhaps a crush, of sorts. But she refused to let it go beyond that. She figured it was probably because it'd been far too long since she's experienced kindness. And Cole was the one to show her that uncharacteristic kindness in this world. He also knew her circumstances. Her struggles. Her pains.

He knew her for _her_.

That was all. That's it.

"Erin..." Maxwell sounded hurt as he stepped back, observing the face of his sister. Liz turned to him and frowned. She wouldn't apologize. Not for something like this.

"Would you mind keeping me updated while you're out? I… worry about you, you know?" Liz tried to change the subject. The man seemed to latch onto that and nodded.

"I-I will be sure to send letters." He turned to leave, his footfalls slowly fading as he got to the staircase. Liz stood at the entrance to her bedroom and stared at the fireplace, a despondent look on her face. That's when he spoke, almost too soft to hear. "It's not love that's a weakness, you know. It's your fear of it."

The otherworlder felt her expression scrunch in irritation. She wanted to turn and chew him out, but he was already gone. The door below clicked shut, leaving her in silence.

Wasn't it, though?

* * *

 _ **NOTE** : I don't feel completely content with this chapter, but I'm posting it anyway. Things have popped up. So my updates may only be every three days or so as opposed to everyday. My apologies. _


	16. Maker, Have Mercy

"Maker, Have Mercy"

 _Liz was standing above their bodies, eyes scanning the still forms that lined the cavern floor. They'd holed up in here. A small scouting group. These… bandits. Her fingers twitched, her lips pulling into a frown. It wasn't enough._

" _Y-You'll let me go now, right?" The lone figure that was alive stuttered, staring up at the angered mage as she glared menacingly down at him. Almost comical, considering how small she was in comparison to him. But…_

 _Liz tilted her head, this man? He'd given her what she needed. Who his leader was. Who was responsible for Auri's death. She'd promised to let him live, yet._

" _I've changed my mind." She stated coldly, allowing her arm to encase itself with lightning. It illuminated the man's battered and bruised face, eyes wide in terror. The bloodied rogue scrambled to stand up. He limped and tried to run in the opposite direction, but the mage lunged forward and shoved her arm through the back of his chest. She could still remember how it felt when his skin broke, bones crunching and organs popping beneath her magic encased hand. Her hand erupted on the other side, causing him to cough up the red fluid and stare down at it in shock. Horror as he couldn't believe what he was seeing._

" _People like you don't deserve to live." Liz had stated from behind him._

 _Liz knew now that this statement was wrong. She was watching it in the Fade. That's right. That's what this was. She twitched when she heard the sickening squelch as the Fade-version of her pulled her arm out of his torso, flicking her arm to the side and sending an arc of hot fluid slapping against the cave wall._

" _ **But it didn't stop there, did it?"**_ _A familiar voice echoed in her head, causing the mage's eyes to widen. The memory flickered and stuttered, replaying like a broken disk. Liz saw herself pulling her arm out of his body, again. Again. Again. Her regret on display for the demon._

 _Her eyes couldn't leave._

 _Dread filled her core._

" _ **You pathetic little thing. Trying to make up for your sins. Your mistakes. Your friends trusted you, all you could do was this."**_ _It sneered,_ _ **"He had a family, you know. He was so young, naive. Didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. And look?"**_

 _She stared at the young man as the memory began to play again, his body falling to the ground with a wet slop. He couldn't have been more than 18. Eyes dulled, mouth open as if to scream. But he couldn't._

" _ **You killed him."**_

"SHUT UP!" Liz screamed and sat up from her sleep, chest heaving. Her brown eyes were wild as they looked around her room, searching for the enemy. The demon that— _that demon._

The woman let out a shriek of rage.

* * *

 **Cole**

 _(Moments earlier)_

The rogue was standing at the entrance to the main hall talking to his friend, Solas. The elven apostate was asking him how he was acclimating to Skyhold and its people. He was worried, he could tell. He'd long since gotten over what'd happened awhile back with Liz. Solas had apologized for it and it'd resulted in dozens of questions about why he was so protective of the mage.

Which he, himself, couldn't fully comprehend either. He'd simply been told to be careful.

"I like it here." Cole finally replied to the bald apostate, getting a slight nod out of him. He turned and looked over the expanse of Skyhold. The view from the front of the main hall was nice, allowing a panoramic view of the whole front part of the fortress.

"You like it? What of your purpose? Have you been feeling any adverse changes?"

"….No. Liz is helping me help, teaching me how to do it right. Sometimes it's wrong." He tilted his head, hiding much of his face from his friend. "It's … hard."

"Liz? Are you talking about Erin?" He rose a brow at the rogue.

"Yes. Hearing it makes her happy. A name beneath the name. It's who she is."

Solas opened his mouth to ask a question, he could feel the curiosity welling up when—a shriek of absolute rage erupted from the Trevelyan's quarters.

It echoed through the upper courtyard, even causing a few from the main hall to stop their conversation. They looked around, as if looking for the source. Cole's eyes widened when he felt it rippling through the air, tearing like parchment. Yanking on him. Calling out to him.

Without saying anything, he turned and darted toward the entrance of their room. Heedless to the following footsteps of his friend as they threw the door open and ran toward the staircase. The men could hear crashing and screaming coming from upstairs.

"Erin!" Solas called from behind Cole, who appeared at the top of the stairs.

It was an absolute mess. Some of the dressers were charred. Maxwell's desk was on fire and the books from the bookshelves were scattered haphazardly among the main room. Liz sat in the middle of it all, heaving in lungfuls of air as she stared at the carpet like it'd been the one that wronged her.

Cole approached the angered mage, seeing Solas put out the fire in his peripheral. "...Liz? Liz, look at me."

She felt far away. Even when he tried to grasp. Only for it to snap into place, her eyes filling with fury.

"It's alive!" She gritted through her teeth, "It's. Still. Alive."

"Erin, what are you talking about?" Solas was the one, this time. Cole had no idea what to do, so he searched. Waited for something to surface.

"The demon that killed Athras! He's alive." She snapped, causing the elf's brows to raise.

"Please, sit down." Solas spoke softly, motioning toward the white couch. Which, miraculously, remained untouched. The young mage breathed heavily, but didn't protest when her spirit friend began to lead her toward the seat. She sat down and took long deep breaths. "I'd been meaning to confront you about what I heard it say to you that day, but didn't know when would be a good time. I suppose now is a good time as any."

Liz's hands clenched and Cole crouched in front of her, making eye contact with the furious little woman. The top of her head brushed against the lip of his hat as he spoke in a low tone, "He wants you. He's always wanted you. _'Break her down, build her up.'_ Soon. Soon. You won't let it."

"So you've had previous encounters with this demon?" Solas asked.

"Yes..." Liz breathed, "As… as long as I can remember."

He could see her, a younger her, crying and running from the darkness. Dark tendrils growing and grabbing—grasping at her. But she was always too fast. Just out of reach.

"' _I can feel it. Can hear it. Sense it. But can't see it. Always watching.'_ " He relayed what he saw, trying to put it into words. It was hard, sometimes. Letting people know what he saw, what he felt. Sometimes it just couldn't translate.

"I've… never seen it." She confirmed, wincing at what the spirit said. Saying it only seemed to harm her further. The rogue fretted, hands coming up and grabbing onto hers. Unsure. She stared down at their joined hands in curiosity, "It's never been able to catch me, though. I used to… have a friend. When I was a child."

The young woman leaned back and shuddered, looking up at Solas. She made no move to pull her hands away, though. Which Cole was grateful for.

"Was it a spirit?" Solas asked.

"I… think so. He pushed it away when it got too close. He was there for me when I was small. But..." _'He's gone. He left. Like everyone else.'_

Cole felt his chest squeeze, something niggling in the back of his head. But he ignored it in favor of helping his friend.

"Wasn't your family part of the Chantry? You're rather receptive to the idea of communing with spirits for someone who's been raised by devout Andrastians."

"What the Hell is this, an interrogation?" And she closed up, just like that. It had been within reach, but she pulled in on herself. Afraid. "You seem to get a lot of your 'knowledge' from the Fade. What reason do you have to lie, Solas?"

"What?" He tensed.

"I'm young but not naive. How many times do I have to say that? Always telling half-truths. I lie, too. But at least I tell the truth sometimes." Liz spoke bitterly, turning her gaze from the man. "You always act like you're walking on glass around me. Like I'm about to turn into a monster and eat you. I get it. I'm young. I'm untrained. But I won't become an abomination. I'm stronger than that." She turned, eyes full of anger. Her lips curled in resentment, "Got it?"

"I… I hadn't realized I was coming off that way, I apologize."

She sighed, anger fizzling out as she pulled her hands away from Cole and covered her face. "Damn it." The otherworlder groaned, "I'm sorry, Solas. That was…. Uncalled for."

"Do people often tell you these things?"

"Not verbally, but … I can see it. Sometimes not even just their face, but like a sense of sorts. You're a mage, don't you know?" The young mage peeked through her fingers, the windows allowing a halo of sunlight to embrace her brown locks. Cole shifted away, examining her face as she spoke. So expressive. She seemed to let her guard down around the two. She trusted them. Solas, too? No. Not trust, but safety. Sees him and sees elder.

She was changing. Something about it made him nervous. He'd changed before, too. But changing meant losing his friends. Changing for her meant gaining friends? How was it different? Where was it different?

Then, after some deliberation, the apostate answered the young woman.

"And why do you think that is?" He asked cryptically, not really much of an answer. Really.

"There it is again. You know, I'm not really fond of dancing around subjects. If you have something to say, just say it." She was looking up at him and he appeared to consider her statement.

"…. Perhaps another time." With that, he was off. The elf retreated down the stairs, believing she was calm enough to leave alone now. Cole stared at the destroyed room, knowing that Maxwell would not be happy. Especially since some of the things that were burned were documents that Josephine had told him to go over.

"Cole, what is wrong with that man?" Liz asked in a huff, irritated at Solas' antics.

"He keeps me out, like you. It's harder to listen. He only lets me see sometimes."

"...Figures."

"He is worried about you. He looks at you and sees _friend_. Companion. Like me." Cole smiled at the young woman and he could see her face begin to turn pink. "Solas won't hurt you, I promise."

The woman leaned back and observed the spirit, who tilted his head in curiosity. She took in his blank expression and crossed her arms.

"Sorry, bud. I don't trust anyone."

"You trust _me_." Cole couldn't keep the cheerful tone out of his voice that time. He knew she trusted people. Sometimes she just said words that didn't mean anything. Like a lie, but not. To keep herself safe. She trusted Maxwell, Serana, even Jade. He was glad he was among those she trusted.

"Shush, you smug little bastard."

"I am not _smug_." He protested.

"I saw the little quirk in your lips. You're _smug_." Liz's nose crinkled as she smiled, a small laugh bursting from her lips. He could feel his heart squeeze at the sight. Maker, she was beautiful when she was happy. Having forgotten about her dream. All she saw right then was him. Him.

Cole.

He decided, then, that he would continue to try and see that smile. That little light that flickered everytime she brightened. He remembered just then, what he was going to ask Solas. But now he was busy. He'd intended to give Liz a gift, of sorts.

Intent on completing his task, he didn't even hesitate to turn and leave. He heard Liz huff in annoyance, but didn't object to his sudden departure. She'd gotten used to it, it seems.

The rogue practically flew over to the Herald's Rest and up the stairs, paying no heed to the sounds of the patrons or the smell that seemed to permanently go with the building. He stopped near his perch and grabbed the object, his fingers grazing gently across the grooves of the wood. It felt foreign to him. It didn't feel right. He wasn't it's owner.

It called out her name. It knew her name. It was meant for her.

He twirled and seemed to blend with the shadows as he held it in his palms, opening the door and going onto the ramparts. There were less people this way, he reasoned. The spirit shifted, moving with fluid ease as he listened for his friend. Cole's blonde hair tickled the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head, watching as she left the main hall and walked into the gardens.

Perfect.

It was warmer than usual out, that day. Not that it ever deterred his little mage friend. The young woman was outside whether it be cold or hot, rainy or clear. She seemed to enjoy it, nonetheless. Not once had he ever heard her complain about the weather. Not even in Crestwood when she was drenched to the bone and shivering like a wet Mabari.

When he entered the garden, his boots carefully trodding along the dirt and cobblestone pathway that seemed to wind through the entirety of the area. Trees of all colors shot through into the sky, bursting with orange and red hues. Like Autumn, even though it wasn't. It was beautiful. She thought so, too. If not from what he could hear in her heart, but from the look upon her face as she stared up at the massive tree near the center of Skyhold gardens. Her brown hair shifted as the wind gently licked her face, her small hand pressed against the rough bark of the tree.

"If you listen closely, you can hear it reaching for the sun." He stated from behind her, not even getting a jump from the woman. The otherworlder was hard to scare. Her senses always seemed too keen.

"You know. I get the distinct feeling you're just trying to scare me, Cole." She didn't even turn her gaze from the tree when she spoke. Her finger trailed along the grooves of it, her brown eyes half-lidded.

Well, she wasn't wrong. Cole would admit, part of him was curious if he could get her to startle.

"But, yes. The trees, the plants. They get their energy from the sun. It would make sense if they … 'reached for the sun' as you say." Liz explained, appearing as though she wanted to elaborate even further. Only for her mouth to screw into a frown, her head shaking as she deemed it unimportant. Her gaze slid from the tree and over to the young rogue, who stood there awkwardly. Unsure of himself.

Would she like it? It was hers, afterall.

He held it in front of him, the long staff an odd weight in his hand. It looked similar to the one she often carried with her, only with a conglomeration of branches at the top that seemed to spike in random directions. The wood was worn—weathered. Atop the staff, a black crow feather was tied. Along with a few beads and cat fur.

It was Athras' staff.

The rogue stared down at it, listening. It'd been his for a long while. He held it, honed his skills. Cared for it as his body, too, withered over time. The staff, still of use. His body. Not. The trinkets helped with concentration for her forms. He'd… he'd intended to give it to her.

The elder had known of his eventual passing. He just hadn't known he would end up possessed and killed by his student.

Cole winced at that thought and looked up at his friend, who was frozen in place. Recognition rang true on her features as her hands shook, fingers gingerly taking the staff out of the rogue's hands. It was quiet, save for the faint flap of the Inquisition's banner behind him. The trees rustled and the woman looked up at him, eyes glassy with tears.

"W-Where did you find this?" She croaked, holding it up close to her chest.

"Leliana's scouts found it. Near the shack where he died. It was meant for you, when you returned." He explained, seeing the grief build in her eyes. But it wasn't nearly as overwhelming as it was just weeks ago. "It was his. But he knew, he was weak and— _oof!"_

He grunted when she barreled into him, her arms encircling his waist. Her head was buried in his chest and he stood there, his hands held out. Unsure how to react. Cole stared down at the woman, feeling his heart pick up it's pace in his chest. Threatening to burst.

She was so close to him. When the young woman nuzzled against him, he gently put his own arms around her. Her scent wafted into his nose and she smelled faintly of leather and wood shavings.

"L-Liz." He choked out, feeling his throat close up. She only seemed to squeeze him even tighter, his face growing redder by the second. It was foreign, the feeling that he had just then. He'd been hugged before. By Rhys, his friend at the Spire. But—never had he ever had the urge to hold him closer. Or—or thread his fingers through his hair.

When she peeked up at him, he had to have been as red as a tomato. The mage's eyes widened and she let go, practically leaping away from him. Her eyes were wide in near horror and Cole felt his stomach flip. Had she realized? Could she sense his intentions? Maybe his thoughts, too? Was she-

"I-I apologize. Was I squeezing too hard?" She reacted to his reddened face, completely misinterpreting it. Fortunately for him. He had to suppress the urge to sigh in relief. Cole simply sat there and pulled at the ends of his hair with one of his hands, eyes darting everywhere but hers.

"I-It's… It's okay, I-" Cole willed himself invisible, pulling at the Fade and becoming no more than a shimmer as he swiftly moved away from her. Heedless to the confused look on his friend's face as he retreated. Up into the ramparts and into one of the abandoned towers, he slammed the door shut and pressed his back against the freezing wall.

His fingers dug into the stone, eyes focusing in on the holes in the ceiling. The birds that claimed it as its home stared down at the intruder, tilting their heads simultaneously. He focused. Listened to them. Anything to still his beating heart.

Maker, have mercy.

* * *

 **Liz**

With Maxwell gone to the Western Approach, Liz was left alone for the coming weeks. They seemed to pass at a snail's pace, her days as routine as they could get. The Inquisitor was to be away for a long while, since the trip there was a whole three weeks on horseback. He'd specifically left her in charge of making any decisions in his place, stating that he trusted her judgment. She intended not to let him down, if the situation called for it. She would think to herself, 'What would Maxwell do?'

So she worked in the healing tents. Most of the time was spent fretting over whether the equipment was sterilized or if the stations were clean. They didn't seem to understand her paranoia, no matter how many times she tried to explain to them. Dirty = infection.

The young woman knew that if she tried to delve into the basics of her world and germs, they wouldn't even be able grasp the concept. The surgeon showed promise, at first. But when she started spouting about balancing the humors, Liz gave up.

As for the staff Cole had found for her…

It'd been her mentors, of course. She'd been more than overjoyed when she received it from the spirit. Liz was still eternally grateful that he even went out of his way to find it. Would Leliana have given it to her? Or perhaps kept it? She didn't know.

The mage flipped through a book that Solas had given her. Thanks to Silas, her reading level was that of a small child's. She was usually a quick study, but the language here didn't seem as easy. The odd symbols gave her a headache most of the time.

She squinted at the dusty old book that the apostate had given her from the library. It was about sigils and runes of all types. It wasn't something that her Hahren had covered, in any case. Liz had found some odd carvings along the worn wood of the staff. Of which, she didn't know.

Her finger trailed across the worn parchment and traced the circular patterns. They were drawn almost perfectly, with something akin to lettering blotting the circumference of the drawing.

"They are spell sigils." The elf stood behind her, her staff resting on his desk. His thin fingers pointed out some of the ones that matched in the books. "They appear to have been carved along the shaft to allow easier channeling and control."

Liz flipped the page, barely able to make out half of the terms that dotted the text. "You know, this is the staff that he used to hit me with." She turned and smirked up at the man, who looked puzzled.

"Why would he want to do that?"

"Well, he was teaching me how to dodge. I wasn't always as fast as I am. It is an important skill for a battle medic, afterall. I go down, so does the team." She explained, gaze slipping back to the book on the elf's desk. Chatter up on the second floor was quiet with the occasional thumping of someone walking around. "It helped that it was encased in lightning."

"That is one way to motivate your student."

"Motivation." Liz snorted and she heard him chuckle, only to cover it up with a cough. She'd tried to ask Dorian to help her, but his explanations on the matter didn't seem to make sense to the young mage. His style of casting was all about flair. A more artsy way of learning, to put it simply. But expending more mana than normal simply to 'look amazing' didn't seem to register to her. Her way of thinking was built solely for efficiency. Methodical thinking.

Solas, on the other hand. He relied on books and his teaching style, to most, would seem almost rigid. He lectured her, almost like she were in a class. This, she could get. Liz felt she gained more from the more technical side of things as opposed to the flashy teaching style of the Tevinter above.

Not that she had anything against the man, of course.

He was certainly … an odd one. Sassy, for sure. He, like her, seemed to prefer storm magic above all else. He was also a necromancer. Definitely not something she, herself, would be interested in learning. But it was a nice tidbit of information, nonetheless. Dorian was the one that'd saved her back at Haven when she was in the middle of having a breakdown. To that, she was grateful.

"Oh, right." Liz dug around in her pocket and fished out a small wooden sculpture she'd carved. It was small and fit in the palm of her hand as she presented it to the apostate. His brows rose as he grabbed the thing gently, flipping it around between his fingertips. "It's just a trinket I made. A thank you for putting up with my moodiness as of late, I suppose."

"But… why a wolf?" He asked. A wolf, it was. The wooden sculpture was of a wolf sitting on its haunches, staring off to the side.

"I heard you talking about wolves. You seem to respect them." She looked up at the walls of the rotunda, marveling at the beautiful painting he'd been working on moments before she entered his room. "You paint them alot, too."

"Thank you."

"No problem." Liz turned and looked at him, "I just hope that you don't mind… but I'm wearing wolf pelts right now."

"I figured as such. They appeared to be from a great black wolf, located in the southernmost areas of Ferelden." The elf dragged his fingertip over the top of the small wood sculpture as he walked around the room. "Any particular reason why you kept them? You seem to be rather fond of them."

"Well, I suppose I am. I was attacked by them and in a fit of revenge, I now wear their skin." She stifled her laughter, especially when he looked up at the young woman. The crinkle of his nose was almost imperceptible. "Joke. It's a joke, Solas. They did attack me, but I've always been taught not to waste what Mother Nature gives to us. Meat, furs, even the bones."

At that, his mouth opened and he let out an 'ahhh' noise. Understanding. "What of the intestines?"

"Fishing bait. Mulch." She shrugged. "My Hahren knew how to make a pretty good stew out of the liver and heart."

"Of wolves?"

"Any animal, really. Don't tell Cole, but I really preferred the nug stew." The young mage peered around the room, almost expecting him to pop out. "Any of the carnivorous wildlife seemed a little too gamey for my liking. But I didn't complain. Food was food."

"You know, one of the servants employed by mother cooked the most scrumptious roasted nug." Dorian sighed from above, causing the two down below to twitch in surprise. Liz peered up, seeing him leaning against the railing with an almost wistful look on his face, "I don't suppose you know how to cook the little things, do you?"

Had he really been listening the whole time? She didn't really take him for an eavesdropper. Though, she barely knew the man.

"Unfortunately not. Cooking isn't really my forte." It was always her sister's. The thought caused a brief wave of despair to erupt in her chest, only to slowly fade. Elise wouldn't want this. Liz stood up from Solas' desk. She straightened her back and grunted at the satisfying pop that followed.

"Perhaps you could get your sassy little friend to take a request, hmmm?"

"Aren't you friends with Jade? Why don't _you_ ask?" Liz rose a brow.

"She's a feisty little thing, if a little unhinged. But no, the woman practically lives in the kitchens. Like a troll, she is." He chuckled and scratched at the small patch of hair on his chin. "I've seen the way she makes her assistants scatter like roaches. I'm surprised she doesn't have her magister license. She's got the evil cackle down pat."

"I don't… wait, dwarves can be magisters? But I thought-" The little human was cut off.

"When did you graduate from Killjoke University?"

"Oh." She felt like an idiot and couldn't even resist the urge to facepalm. Her hand dragged across her face and she even heard Solas sigh at her idiocy. Or maybe it was from Dorian. The two seemed to get into some banter every once and awhile.

"I would like to request that you keep your voices down, as it will likely disrupt others in the library." A woman spoke from beside Dorian. A tranquil that Liz knew as Helisma.

"Sorry, dear. I didn't realize I was being so loud." Dorian apologized and straightened from his perch, "I have research of my own to attend to, unfortunately. So I cannot grace you with my presence for much longer."

Oh, the horror.

Liz suppressed the urge to snort.

That's when the door to the rotunda was thrown open, the wood slamming against the stone. Unfortunately, she couldn't suppress the surprised squeak that left her lips just then.

' _ **THUD!'**_

Liz whirled around, mindless to the distressed squawking from above as the birds freaked out. Cole practically stomped into the room, a couple pieces of parchment crumpled in his hand. As if he'd been squeezing it too hard.

So much for the silence Helisma requested.

"Cole? What's wrong?" Liz asked, staring at her friend. He seemed paler than usual.

"They're binding demons." He shoved the letters in her hands, which she fumbled with. Barely able to keep them between her fingers. "The Wardens are binding demons."

"Binding demons? That's possible?" She asked, looking down at the letter and squinting. They were letters from Maxwell, she realized. She'd requested to keep her updated, so she knew he wasn't dead. Cole must have listened to him through her letters. Unless he actually gave her a full on report. She turned to Solas and held it to him, as if to ask him to give it a once over.

Her sitting there trying to sound out the words would take too long. She hoped the elf could just read it and give her the gist of it.

Hopefully.

"Would that be alright?" He seemed hesitant, almost as if he wasn't sure whether or not to accept the offered letters.

"Yes, if you wouldn't mind."

He grabbed the two letters and tried to smooth out the crumples, his grey eyes scanning the hastily scrawled symbols. The elf let out a low 'hmmm' and flipped to the next one. The concentrated look on his face twitched, as if disturbed, only for it to disappear. His gaze flicked up to the two. Liz stood there, confused as ever. Cole, however, was shifting uncomfortably. As if he were about to explode.

"Yes. It is a blood magic ritual, however. Doing so is incredibly dangerous and harmful to the spirit involved." He held the parchment out to Liz, who took it from him with a frown. "It appears as though the Warden mages are doing so at the behest of Corypheus. The Inquisitor encountered someone by the name of Livius Erimond at the ritual tower."

"It's probably a good thing that Cole didn't go with, then." She stated, feeling slightly relieved. But that didn't seem to do anything for her friend. If anything, he seemed to grow even more distressed at her obvious dismissal of what was in the letter.

"I-I can't let that happen to me. I can't _be_ that." The spirit pulled at his blonde hair nervously, "If they can do it, someone else will. Can. Walls around what I want, blocking, bleeding—making me into a monster."

"Whoa whoa, let's breathe here okay." Liz approached the nervous rogue, hands held out like he was a skittish animal. "Cole, listen-"

"You guys wouldn't let me do that. You're mages. Bind _me_!"

Liz took a step back, as if slapped in the face. Her words slipped out, unbidden. "You've got to be fucking joking."

"This isn't a joke, Liz! You don't understand." He sounded absolutely shaken and she had no idea how to placate him. "S-Solas, you like demons. You have to help me, _please_."

"Erin, please. You're not helping." Solas spoke from behind her, appearing at her right. He put his hand on Cole's shoulder and spoke softly, "Spirits. I enjoy the company of spirits. It's part of the reason why I don't abuse them with my magic."

"But it's not abuse if I ask!"

"That's not true and you know it!" Liz snapped. "None of the mages here even practice blood magic, Cole. Doing so would put both the mage and you at risk, anyway! Blood mages are killed. Besides that, what if… what if it takes away the parts of you that are you?"

The young woman was beginning to sound just as upset as the spirit, her hands gripping her furs angrily.

"Helping makes me who I am. I help the hurting. That is what I do, all I do. Am. Me!"

"And if it erases your mind? Your consciousness?" Solas posed the questions, sounding almost angered at the very thought.

"You guys wouldn't let me hurt innocent people. I-I don't want to hurt innocent people again."

"T-This is a little extreme though, isn't it? Cole, you won't hurt innocent people. I promise." Liz grabbed his hand, determination burning in her eyes. "Whether it be finding a way to make you safe or stopping you myself if it ever comes to that. I promised, remember? Please—just… just breathe. Think about what you're even suggesting, here."

Just saying it. That she would stop him. Kill him. For whatever reason, it made something inside of her chest squeeze. As if the mere thought itself was more terrifying than dying. Liz knew – she realized, that she didn't ever want to lose her friend.

Not again. Please not again.

"I have an idea, if Cole is willing to listen." Solas' tone was clipped, his hands retreated behind his back as he examined the two of them. Liz noticed how he seemed to stare at their joined hands in curiosity before continuing. "I recall stories used by Rivaini seers to protect spirits they summoned from rival mages. A spirit wearing the Amulet of the Unbound was immune to blood magic and binding. It should protect Cole, too."

"That's good! I could ask Leliana or Josephine if they could help us out with that. I'm sure Maxwell would agree to finding this, if it meant keeping Cole safe." Liz latched onto the piece of information, feeling hope. "He knows as well as I that the safety of our comrades takes precedence."

"Good. They will not take me." He turned to leave and Liz flinched when he pulled away. He didn't even look at her as he stormed away and out the doors to the main hall. She stared at the closed door, a frown set on her face.

She turned and looked at her elven friend, for once not hiding her fear. "Solas, will he be okay?"

"Don't worry. So long as he remains in Skyhold until we get the amulet, he should be fine." He explained, turning back to his desk and looking through some notes. Liz opened and closed her mouth, about to blurt out her thoughts. But she bit her tongue.

The young mage was afraid. So afraid. She wasn't sure how she'd even react if something like that would ever befall her friend. She never even thought it an option. It would have been different in the beginning, back when he first joined the Inquisition. But she'd be lying to herself if she said she hadn't gotten fond of the young man. So much so, that it almost scared her. Though, she'd probably feel the same way if Maxwell or Serana were to get into the same level of life threatening danger.

Liz sighed and ruffled her hair in frustration, "I don't know what to do."

"Just do what you've been doing. It is my understanding that you've been assisting him with helping the people of Skyhold?"

"Uh… yeah. I'm sure that things work differently in the Fade and he seems a little out of his element at times. So… I've been trying to explain to him alternative ways to approach certain situations." Her fingers twitched, remembering some of the times they'd sat down and simply talked. They flashed, memories flooding her mind. She wanted to reach out to him, now. Comfort him. "I _think_ I've been helping. I'm not sure. People still seem put off by him."

"He is a Spirit of Compassion. The only advice I may offer is that you see that he does not deviate from his purpose." He peered up at the young mage and she gave him a nod.

"I wouldn't want to cause him any undue harm." She admitted, "But I really should get going… thank you. Really."

With that, she was off. The youngest Trevelyan went to Josephine first, who just so happened to be in her office reading through some letters addressed to the Inquisitor. Initially, she'd felt bad for interrupting. But she could see how grateful the Ambassador was for actually having a chance to do something else.

As it seemed, she knew of some people that might know what she was talking about. In fact, if things went smoothly it might even have arrived by the time Maxwell got back from his trip in the Western Approach.

Evidently he was to return. He'd probably mentioned it in the letter, but she was having a hard time reading all of it that second. She'd probably have to consult Silas, since asking anyone to read it to her would seem suspicious. No one, that she knew of, was aware of her illiteracy. Liz wanted to keep it that way.

* * *

Ever since their confrontation in the Rotunda with Solas, Cole had been avoiding Liz. This didn't seem to bother her at first, but after some deliberation she was starting to get irritated by it. Even after she openly began searching for him. But he was nowhere to be found.

Almost a week, now.

The mage grumbled something unintelligible underneath her breath as she grabbed a vial off of the shelf. She turned and handed it to the young man sitting on the cot, "Here, take this. It should help with the pain. But otherwise it looks like it's healing pretty nicely. Just take it easy."

With that, she sent him out of the infirmary. He walked with a limp as he shut the door gently behind him. The young mage finished organizing some things before another figure entered soon after. Already?

Her gaze snapped in the direction, spotting Adan. The elderly man grunted, "Alright, go on kid. Git."

"But my shift doesn't end for another hour." She nearly complained but he waved her off, moving passed her without even glancing in her direction. The two of them were still kind of on bad terms, but they'd learned to deal with one another's presence.

If only for Liz respecting her elders. No matter how grouchy they may be. He'd never actually done anything malicious. Yet.

So she left, walking out into the early morning of the fortress. Cassandra was already seated near the training dummy, adjusting her armor and doing her stretches. It was quiet, save for the soft tweeting of birds in the trees in front of the Rest as she approached the wall that separated the two courtyards. It was a steep drop into the healing tents. A fire crackled calmly in the middle where her friend, Serana, stood.

The white haired mage warmed her frail hands on the fire, a small smile on her face. Only to be startled as a familiar figure appeared next to her. Her head whirled in his direction. Liz squinted when she saw Cole come out of stealth, his huge hat like a beacon beyond the tents.

She, of course, couldn't hear what he was saying. But the way Serana's face reddened had something in her stomach churning. Something she wasn't really familiar with but could identify clear as day.

The only thing the young mage could do was sit from her perch and watch. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight as the two kept talking. She was talking to him when she'd spent a better part of the week trying to find him. To be there for him.

But Cole went to _her_.

Liz frowned and tore her eyes away from the scene. Serana wasn't with anyone, that she knew of. So it would make sense that the two of them would kind of gravitate toward one another. Serana was just as compassionate and caring as Cole was. The two of them…

The otherworlder felt sick. Absolutely sick. How could she feel jealous toward her friends? How? What a selfish emotion to have.

Disgusted with herself, she whipped around and retreated into the tavern. Intent on having a morning drink. Not that it would matter.

Serana and Cole deserved happiness. Who was she to deny them that? Just because of some stupid crush? She barely even knew the man! She couldn't just step in his way because of her stupid emotions. So, like everything else, Liz stuffed it away in a little box to deal with later.

But things never worked that easily, did they?


	17. I'm Sorry

"I'm Sorry"

' _I can't believe I snapped at Serana.'_ Liz lamented as she stood in the library, her brows knitted together. Just the other day, the fidgety elf had expressed concern about her drinking. She'd been doing it a bit more than usual, sure. But she didn't think it was getting out of hand.

Her snapping was more so due to the fact that she still felt that sting. That stupid emotion. Liz felt bitter that she wasn't as soft and sweet as her friend. That she would never be as kind hearted or good with people. Perhaps then…

No. She couldn't think like that.

Naturally Liz, a young woman, would develop a crush on someone. What with the hormones, and all. Erin's body was what, 18? It's about the right age. Puberty had long since passed for this body, but the hormones of a young teenager was still a thing she shouldn't overlook.

It'd been the same back on Earth, now that the young mage thought about it. Liz had an unfortunate experience with a young man back in her teen years. Highschool. It wasn't anything extreme like cheating or abuse. Just, one day he loved her. Then he didn't. It's strange. How fast someone's feelings can change and then there's nothing one can do but accept it.

It is what it is.

Liz had to sit and accept the fact that she was completely in love with someone who didn't even care whether or not she left. That kind of thing… it destroyed a person on the inside. Made it harder to let anyone else in.

Ever since then, she'd been vigilant about her feelings. Nipping it at the bud before they could blossom into anything significant. It was how she survived on Earth and it was how she would have to survive on Thedas.

There was an 80% chance that it would simply fade with time, she figured. Crushes, afterall, did not last long. What with all the reading she did, it was rather normal for a woman her age to feel such things. Even though it didn't make any sense to her how it even came to be.

Thankfully it was nothing of a sexual nature. That would make thinks 100x more difficult, on account of the fact that Liz wasn't even comfortable in her current body to begin with. She could hardly even look at herself in the mirror. Showing off what wasn't hers, to her, would feel … wrong. It wasn't her right.

The small mage let out a sigh as she fingered through the books up in the library. The idle humming from someone nearby distracted her from her task long enough for her thoughts to tumble back into the previous subject.

But what if the feelings never went away? There was a significant chance that it will develop into love. Love was...

Love was not something Liz was well acquainted with. Even from her time on Earth, familial love was few and far between. Friend love? She never really had friends. Developing bonds with people when you had trust issues was a tad difficult. Especially after her first and only experience. If family treated you like that, what was stopping people on the street? 'Friends'? 'Lovers'?

Romantic love was not something she'd even considered, here.

Not to mention it would likely be unrequited love, at that. Liz felt her gaze turn flat as she grabbed a book off of the shelf. Her fingers passed over the worn leather bindings, caressing it tenderly as she traced the odd symbols. She'd, afterall, seen the way the spirit would fret about her best friend Serana.

Love was not something she had time for. Love would be a mistake. A fatal one, at that.

Liz absolutely could not afford love.

It would eat her alive.

* * *

 **Cole**

Cole was scared. Terrified even. He couldn't remember the last time he felt such terror running through his veins. Much like the time in the Spire when he was afraid the templars would see him. Or the feeling he'd gotten when he'd been revealed for what he was. The dropping in his stomach and the whirlwind in his mind. Thoughts and emotions blended together, making it hard to see. Hard to think.

So he'd retreated.

He would still help others, of course. But it seemed to impede his ability to listen to others. The things in his mind, popping up like demons in the night. Haunting his steps and whispering things to him. Reminding him what he was. Demon. Not spirit.

But Solas said spirit. Liz said spirit. He wanted—needed it to be that. He couldn't be what he was.

Then he remembered. Friends helped friends. But he knew she was upset. Angry. And he'd talked to Serana about it. The woman was always so fidgety and scared. Her movements jerky and reserved, eyes darting to and fro.

He knew that the woman was still jumpy, especially around him. The rogue had, afterall, expressed interest in Hope. Though she did not remember, she still felt uneasy around him. She just didn't know why.

Cole sought out his friend, stepping softly through the grass by the barns. She was with Rin, who was back to teasing her like usual. He turned the corner just as the hart nipped at the young mage's lock of hair, yanking on it.

"Rin! I thought we were friends." She whined and the animal almost seemed to snicker down at her. Cole smiled at the two of them. Rin turned, looking at the rogue with her ear flipped back. Listening for danger.

That's when the otherworlder turned to look, as well. Spotting her friend. Cole grabbed at the ends of his shirt under her gaze, feeling exposed. Like she was trying to pick him apart. Blue eyes locked onto the dirt covered floor, bits of hay and straw strewn about.

"Cole." Her tone was clipped, "Did you need something?"

"You're … hurting. I'm sorry."

"There is a kitchen maid, the stable master who misses his family, the soldiers who are fighting for their lives and others, Josephine who has the entirety of the Inquisition to look over, Maxwell's responsibilities. Out of all of these pains, these hurts, you seek _me_ out?"

"You said that we were friends. Friends help friends."

"Funny, now you say that. That wasn't how it was this passed week, what with you disappearing and all." She spoke bitterly and Cole frowned at that, feeling kind of guilty for pulling away from her. "I think now you see why I'm so upset, yes? I wanted to help, too. But you wouldn't let me."

The mage sniffed and turned away, looking every bit like a pouting child. The thought caused the rogue to tilt his head. She'd never acted like this before. Almost like she was trying to cover up something else.

"There's a lot of hurt inside of you. Why won't you let me help you?"

"Because I don't need your help. I'm fine." _'I'm not worth it.'_

He wanted to protest her thoughts but stopped himself short, seeing irritation starting to show on her face. Any more and she would not allow him close to her. The already growing rift between them become larger. He didn't want that. She was angry.

"I'm sorry." He apologized again, tilting his head down to hide his eyes with his hat. For a moment it was quiet, before the mage sighed.

"No, I apologize for being such a petulant child. I haven't been having a good day, is all." He could feel something inside of her buzzing like an angry hornet's nest. _'Keep him at arms length. Ignore it. Ignore it. It's not there. Ignore-'_

"Ignore what?"

"I should go. I'll be back when I feel better. But right now I think I need some space." She straightened her back and walked off without answering.

But it's the last string of thoughts that caused pain to pinch at his insides.

' _Ignore it or he will kill you.'_

But—but he thought that she trusted him. She still did, right? What had he done to make her change her mind?

It hurt. Oh, Maker it hurt so much. He wanted to follow her. Ask her what he did wrong. Why? Did changing mean she would leave him, too? The thought was terrifying. Would Liz eventually forget Cole, too? He had control over his abilities and if he wanted, he was sure he could make her forget. But making her forget would hurt her even more. Hurt him. No.

So the spirit found himself sitting on the stone wall looking over the healing tents hours later. He just sat there, swinging his leg and tapping it against the wall rhythmically. It always helped him think. Listen. Hear what was going on around him.

Liz was right. So many hurts. Funneling like a cyclone, reaching out. Demanding to be heard. A servant girl who lost her diary. The horsemaster that missed his family, writing letters almost every day but unable to actually send them. Serana, afraid of what people will think if they see her. See Hope. Abomination.

Everything was so _loud_ , so vibrant. Yet, he seemed almost entranced by his friend. Liz. Sometimes that's all he could see. Liz. Whenever she was around, his gaze followed her. The way she walked, the way she talked. Held herself. Her. Just… her.

He stared at the tents, feeling their worries and hurts fade as he retreated into his own mind. Everything dull. Muted.

She was jaded, flawed but fascinating – ferocious. Like a raging storm. Calm, some days. But others, thunderous. Crackling to life at a moments notice, striking. Resolute.

Cole hummed, remembering the song her body made when she held onto him. It had rang, resonated inside of him—no—reached out. A gentle caress that had his mind reeling. He couldn't remember ever feeling like that. Ever. Not even when he had a similar fascination with a templar by the name of Evangeline.

Liz was similar to Evangeline, because they were both strong women. Both held themselves a certain way, seeing the world in a different perspective. At one point he'd have thought Liz didn't care and was just angry at the world. Hated people, even. But over time, he saw the holes in her masks. Underneath the layers. She did care. She was just afraid of what would happen if she let herself.

Liz didn't know it, but she already did.

And they were both pretty. Very much so. Cole knew this and Evangeline would have probably just thought him a child, unable to understand such things. Liz didn't, however, but showed a distinct lack of interest in the very thought of such feelings.

Cole felt a bit of hopelessness, just then. It wasn't like he knew the correct way to pursue such things, anyway. The rogue's shoulders slumped as he sat atop the wall, his legs kicking the stone in a steady rhythm.

"Something bothering you?" He heard a familiar dull tone from behind him, causing him to turn. His hat hid her expression and he had to move his hand to tilt it up so he could see. Liz stood there with a blank look on her face as she tilted her head, "It appeared as though you were brooding."

He felt his face burn under her sudden attention. It wasn't like she could read his thoughts or anything.

Right?

"No."

She leaned forward and looked down into the lower courtyard, seeing Solas and Serana speaking to one another at a fire. The young elf had been tending to some of the wounded, as per Liz's orders. Cole found himself looking, too. His face finally turning back to it's normal color.

"Oh, I get it. This is about a girl isn't it?" She turned her head toward him. She was far enough away that he couldn't really make a read on her, at all. He felt his face turning red again. Did she know? Was it really that obvious?

Cole almost expected Liz to snap at him for it or outright reject him. The fear of rejection was what scared him, the most. Other than the fact that she might end up pushing him away and avoiding him. What would she do?

But she didn't. Only, instead, offering a sad smile.

"I am right, aren't I?" Her voice came out quiet and he couldn't seem to get an answer out. Every time he said anything it always came out wrong and made the situation worse. Cole turned away and refused to look Liz in the eyes. As if she would know. But she already knew, didn't she?

The fear that rippled through the air cut into him like a knife, making him whip his head around to look at her. It was slowly muffled and replaced by pain. Two things that were the easiest for him to read from people were the only things he could detect on her when they were at this distance.

Why was she afraid? Why was she hurt? He hadn't meant for her to find out this way. If, at all. He knew how much she detested those kinds of feelings, looking at them like they were a disease. When she turned around and walked away, he could have sworn he felt something inside of him crack. Break like a plate falling onto the cold unforgiving floor.

That was when he realized that what he had wasn't the same thing he'd felt for Evangeline. No. It was something more. Something profound. But it didn't matter.

He didn't matter.

* * *

 **Liz**

 _(Just moments ago)_

Liz never did like it when he would sit alone on the wall alone, brooding. It kind of made her wish she could help him somehow, which was ridiculous. They were friends, that's what they did. But he could handle things on his own just fine and he didn't need the young mage's clingy attention. He didn't need to be babied.

But the urge was still there, nonetheless. And she hated it.

Even so, she found her feet moving on their own accord. She was positioned a good distance away from him as he peered down into the lower courtyard from his perch on the wall. Sunlight danced around the metal helm of his hat, the leather casting a deep shadow across his face. Making it hard to see. It sounded like he was humming, if only faintly.

The otherworlder leaned onto the wall to get a better look at his face. A contemplative expression made its way onto his face before his shoulders slumped and he appeared almost disheartened. Liz's gaze traveled slowly over toward the people sitting around the fire. Solas and Serana spoke quietly with one another, sitting unusually close. The friendly elf had taking a liking to the apostate, afterall. She knew that much.

"Something bothering you?" She finally decided to ask, hearing his shoes click against the stone wall suddenly stop as he whipped his head around to look at her. Liz tilted her head to the side as he moved his hat up to get a better look, "It appeared as though you were brooding."

She decided to elaborate, watching as his cheeks turned a pink hue. _He was blushing._

"No." He denied, but it was obvious. He had been brooding, though she had an idea as to why.

Liz leaned forward and made an obvious display of looking at the duo below as they spoke, only to look back up and see Cole staring as well. A lost look in his eyes.

"Oh, I get it. This is about a girl isn't it?" The question caused his face to turn colors again. Yep. Nailed it.

Logically, he'd find himself attracted to the most compassionate and caring woman in Skyhold. Which happened to be Serana Lavellan. She was a kind elf, beautiful too. With her flowing silvery locks and milky eyes to match. She took care of her patients and had wonderful bedside manner, keeping everyone comfortable with her soft demeanor.

Everything Liz was not.

' _Jealousy is unbecoming of me.'_ She realized and straightened her posture. She had to remind herself that feelings would only get him hurt, in the end. Get her hurt. It was bound to happen. So, she tried to offer him the best encouraging smile she could.

"I am right, aren't I?" His silence was answer enough, his head turning away as he refused to look her in the eye.

' _Could he hear me?'_ The thought caused fear to spike through her, before she tapped it down and felt it slowly being replaced with pain. It settled in her chest and it felt like something was slowly squeezing her heart. Not a pleasant feeling. When the otherworlder was finally able to refocus her vision, he was looking back at her with wide blue eyes. Almost like he couldn't comprehend something. Liz promptly turned around and walked away.

' _He doesn't need me polluting his mind with such things.'_

She simply needed some time away to gather herself, then she could help him. Because she'd support him, even if the one he loved ended up not being her. As long as he was happy. That's all that mattered.

He was all that mattered.

* * *

It was almost like a dance, really. An awkward, agitated, annoying one. Liz felt a fool, seeing things as they were. First, it was he that was avoiding her. Hiding like a skittish and beaten animal. He'd see her, then suddenly he wouldn't be there.

Now, it was quite the opposite.

Liz would hear him talking to someone, helping them. Then she would skitter around the corner and disappear before he could see her. Or she'd see his gigantic hat amongst a crowd in the main hall and she would leap into the nearest room.

One time she even interrupted Josephine by accident as she was having a meeting with a noble. Another time she'd trapped herself in a closet for three hours because it locked behind her. Another, she bumped into a poor servant girl and she dropped a plate of cheeses on a frilly noble lady.

The young mage was a fool, but she wasn't a stupid fool. She knew that her feelings would only end up hurting the young man. He was a spirit, afterall. She'd had enough conversations with Solas to learn that they were easily corruptible. Though the elven apostate never seemed to comment on her behavior around the rogue.

So she kept herself quiet.

She ignored the voice scratching at her insides, telling her that Cole was different. She didn't want to take any chances.

Quiet.

It was always something she was rather good at. Keeping her emotions in check and leaving them on the back burner. It was a horrifying prospect. Her feelings, that is. It wasn't that she didn't have them, by any means. Liz just felt them in excess when they popped up. They were strong, like turbulent winds. Or a hurricane. A sound, deafening, the only thing she can hear. It was too easy for her to get caught up in them.

So, imagine her reaction when Maxwell finally arrived. Unfortunately during a time where she was studying common with Silas, who was as patient and kind as ever. He almost seemed to enjoy being around Liz, which seemed preposterous. No one really liked being around her, right? Not anyone but her friends, anyway. She was prickly and brash and boring.

Not to him.

She had been up in the library speaking quietly behind Helisma, who appeared unfazed by their mutterings. Their lessons. Until the door opened and that certain someone she'd been avoiding came waltzing in alongside Maxwell. Cole didn't even make a move to look up at her, his eyes transfixed on the blocks of wood on Solas' desk.

The amulet. Amulets?

* * *

So, she found herself following the group out of Skyhold that night.

The snow shifted as the wind blew, leaving trails of white billowing across the surface. It was overcast and much colder, that day. The young mage rode beside her apostate friend and the nosy dwarf. Both of whom were quiet, until she decided to butt in.

"Why do you have two?" Liz asked, rocking with her mount as she ambled lazily down the hill. "I saw that you had two amulets on your desk, Solas."

"I was curious how they were made and thought perhaps I would study it." He answered smoothly, not even looking in her direction.

"But it didn't work, did it?" Liz sounded nervous as they went around the bend, leaving Skyhold in the distance. Rin let out a yawn, her tail flicking to and fro as they ambled into the snow. It crunched underneath her weight, getting caught in her fur.

"Like I said, maybe the Kid is too human for it to work. Didn't you ever think of that?" It was Varric that time, deciding to throw in his two cents. He rode on the other side of Solas, who appeared to be ignoring him in favor of watching the road.

"But how is that even possible? Solas said that he was a spirit. I think we've all concluded that he is. How can one be spirit and human?" Though the very thought wasn't at all new to the young woman. She'd had stories from her culture on Earth about spirits and humans that would contradict a lot of things from this world.

"I don't know, that's what we are going to find out. I'm glad you decided to come along, Sunny. He needs ya." He winked, "Although I am a bit curious. You've been avoiding him lately, what made you decide to change your tune?"

"He's my friend. I would never abandon him in his time of need." Liz winced at that comment, looking away from the dwarf and ahead. Maxwell and Cole rode far enough in front that they likely didn't hear their conversation. The duo appeared deep in conversation, as it was.

"Right, friend. I haven't seen you attach yourself like that to _Serana_. I saw you in the gardens all those weeks back." A hearty laugh burst from his lips when the young mage turned to him, red in the face. He'd seen that?!

"V-Varric!" She hissed, eyes looking forward. The rogue didn't so much as twitch in her direction. Good.

"Why hide it? Maybe he feels the same way."

"Even if what you say is true, feelings like that could hurt him. I will not tolerate hurting my friends." Even if it meant hurting herself in the process. His wellbeing took top priority.

Solas was quiet, but he seemed to nod at her comment. He looked approving of her thought process. To that, she was grateful. Things were quiet for some time before she decided to make one last comment.

"I've hurt too many people in my life. It's time I stopped..."

* * *

The ride there was tense, at best. Days passed where the group was simply quiet. Liz even tried to approach her friend to offer some sort of support, but he seemed a little out of it. Although, she didn't blame him for being downtrodden. The amulet had been the one thing that would keep him safe from binding. Something that Cole was very afraid of.

So she simply sat near him whenever possible during the trip. Silence.

They were alone near the dying embers of the fire as the others slept. Liz was supposed to be on watch during the early mornings, making sure there was no ambush. Cole was still as silent as ever, but didn't make a move to pull away from her.

The birds were tweeting hesitantly as the sky began to slowly lighten. The trees shifted in the wind, leaves rattling softly. They were camped in a small clearing, far enough away from the underbrush that she would be able to yell to alert the others. But also close enough for cover, just in case people were to be passing by.

"Cole, we will figure this out." Liz tried to offer some sort of support, feeling it in her heart that things would be okay. They had to be.

He didn't answer. Of course. So she sighed and her shoulders slumped, elbows resting on her knees as she looked over at her friend. A deep frown was pressed into his face as he turned to look at her. Worried.

"If it doesn't, you have to kill me." He spoke softly, "Please."

"Cole—we-we already went through this. I said I would stop you. I wouldn't allow you to hurt people." Liz stuttered, trying to dance around the actual wording. "I promise."

" _You have to say it._ Say it and it'll be true, come to life. You'll kill me, right?"

She grabbed his leather jacket and pulled him closer to her, feeling rage building within. "Listen, you. It won't come to that. Got it? _Nothing_ is going to happen."

Her statement was resolute. She nearly glared at him as she said it. Hoping for it to be true. Wishing it, even. Even though the logical part of her brain was telling her that it was a very real possibility. But she pushed it away in favor of how she felt.

The others began to slowly wake up after that, ending the hushed conversation between the two. They all entered Redcliffe that day, early in the morning when the sun was glittering in the sky. There wasn't much activity that day, but they walked through the town slowly. Following Cole as he sought out the thing that was keeping the amulet from working.

Then. A man. Liz has never seen Cole get so angry, so enraged. He'd practically growled as he stalked forward and started to yell at the man for what he did. What he did to the real Cole. Human Cole. He'd been part of why he died. Left in the cells to starve to death. Alone and cold.

Liz felt her eyes harden at hearing that. This man was scum.

That's when everyone began talking about how Cole should handle the situation. As if he wasn't even there. The thought caused more rage to rear it's ugly head within her. How could they? Make such an important decision for him?

"You're both wrong." That got them to silence as the three men turned to look at the small Mage. She was staring at the three with a look akin to disdain, her nose wrinkling. She was absolutely baffled that they even thought they could control his actions.

"Erin?"

"But what I'm saying is, you're all trying to make a decision that should ultimately be up to him." Liz explained, crossing her arms in disapproval. "We are simply here to offer guidance as his friends."

"So we ask Cole what he wants. He wants to kill the man, what if..."

"Guidance." She snapped, "You're all talking about him as if he isn't right here to make his own damn decisions. He isn't a child. You can't control him."

"R-right..."

"Whichever decision he makes, he has the right to feel the way he feels. In his position, I'd want to kill him too." The statement caused Maxwell to look at Liz uneasily. He obviously didn't agree with the idea of killing people unnecessarily. But it was a harsh reality that she'd come to accept, since her arrival on Thedas. Sometimes you needed to kill or be killed.

But then there was the idea that this may, in fact, be considered an act of revenge. What then, would it do to Cole? But of course they wouldn't let him act on his impulsive feelings, right?

Guidance, she reminded herself. They would have to talk to him about it. He should make this decision himself.

"Making a decision like that could have potential negative effects on Cole. What then? Would you allow it, knowing it would twist him into something he's not?" Solas was the one to pose the question.

"Do you think I haven't thought about that?"

"Uhhh...guys?" Maxwell muttered from the side.

"Come on, now. The Kid will make the right decision. You gotta have a little faith in him." Varric shifted on his feet, hands on his hips as he looked up at the two.

"Faith is what it comes down to now, Child of Stone?" Solas turned to look at the dwarf, a faint sneer making its way onto his pale features.

"Would the two of you stop it?" Liz snapped, "We could have a constructive conversation or we could continue to make jabs at one another. Which will it be?"

"Guys."

"What?" The three of them asked in unison, turning to Maxwell who was looking at the trio with a nervous look in his eye.

"Where did Cole go?"

Oh, no.

"Why didn't you stop him? Which way did he go?!" Liz fretted, her eyes darting around. Looking for her friend. But he wasn't anywhere to be seen. The young mage peered around the corners of nearby buildings and bushes, but didn't see his hat. Which was usually like a beacon.

"I didn't even see him leave! I was too busy listening to you three." The eldest Trevelyan defended.

A scream erupted from their left, causing the four to snap their attention in that direction. Liz was the first to dart off, her feet carrying her through the grass and around the building within a matter of seconds.

Nevermind the fact that it was a male scream that didn't sound like Cole at all. Her first thought was that he was somehow hurt. Bound. Maybe dying. The worst always came to mind as she worried. When she came around the corner, she saw him in the distance.

She skidded to a stop.

Her friend was kneeling between the outcropping of trees. The wind blew, sending leaves fluttering across the ground and landing atop the rogue's hat. He sat there, staring down at the figure that was laying in his lap. Gasping.

Quiet gasping, before his eyes dulled and he stopped moving. Liz walked forth and fell to her knees, shoulders shaking. Cole held his hands up, looking at them in disbelief. Blood, like paint, coated the rogue's palms. Some of it had even gotten onto his brown leather coat.

Liz's gaze fell on the ex-templar, a dagger sticking out of his chest. Death, like a blooming flower, spread across his shirt and onto the grass beneath him.

"Cole." She choked out, almost not believing what she was seeing. He was staring down at the man, muttering. As if trying to talk to him.

"Y-you killed me. I had to-I had to..." His frantic voice tapered off and the tone turned flat and monotonous. "I had to do it."

"Cole?" Solas asked from behind the two, his hands gripping his staff. Liz eyed him warily from her spot next to her friend. The rogue turned and looked up at the elven man, hands shaking and hands bloody. His expression, didn't look right. Devoid of the young man she once knew. Devoid of-

" _I'm sorry_." He spoke, sounding absolutely remorseful as he turned back and looked at the still body of the man at his feet. His voice, toneless, "It was choking, crushing, clawing at his insides. He wanted to get away, wanted to forget. He can't forget if he's dead. He died remembering him... He saw... He-"

Cole turned and made eye contact with Solas, pupils dilated. Though he didn't elaborate, almost like he couldn't. Wet trails from tears were stuck to his cheeks, but his crying had long ceased when the young woman arrived. Now he just sat there. Blank.

"Come on, buddy. We can rest at camp." Maxwell tried to comfort, disapproval evident in his expression. It seemed even Cole recognized it as he stared up at the Inquisitor from underneath his mop of blonde hair. Liz swore she could see tears in Varric's eyes.

They were too late.

' _What have I done?'_

* * *

He sat there, staring at the fire that night. Liz wasn't far away, peeking from the safety of her tent. She stared at her friend, who appeared normal. The same. But something felt … off about him. Was it the cold, dark look in his eyes? The way he would stare at his friends wasn't the same. His expression was almost always stoic and blank. But his eyes always gave away his true intentions. His true feelings. What was within. But… now.

He was quiet. Almost unusually so. The Cole she knew would at least try to talk to Solas or Varric, even her. But when she'd approached him, he'd simply stared up at her. Hate in his eyes. Was it hate? God, she hoped it wasn't hate.

The thought itself seemed to twist in her chest, like a dagger.

When they awoke the next day to begin their journey, everything packed up and ready. Except Cole's hat. The floppy hat that he loved so much was simply sitting on the log next to the dying embers of their campfire.

Liz stooped and picked it up, her fingertips grazing against the worn leather. Her gaze slipped up to her friend and she attempted to hand it to him as he sat atop his horse, Ellie. The dark steed seemed to shift uncomfortably. As if she, too, noticed something awry about her rider.

The others were gathering supplies in the town before they were to depart, leaving the duo alone with the mounts just outside of Redcliffe.

"You forgot your hat, Cole."

"I don't need that thing." His voice was lower, quieter. His eyes were even darker than she remembered as he turned to look down at her. Liz backed away a step, holding the object close to her chest. Something about this situation hurt her. Confusion slipped across the man's face, then understanding. A smirk slipped onto his lips, "It hurts you, doesn't it? Knowing that you couldn't stop, slipping—smoldering as it lifts away like smoke from a fire. Our friendship."

"Y-You..."

"Yes. I'm not _that_ , anymore. How long will it take you, I wonder? They suspect, but don't know. Will you wait? Drowning in doubt." His voice was flat, but when he spoke again he almost sounded like himself. Who he used to be, " _'Promise me, Liz. Don't let me be that, again._ Please _.'_ "

Liz let out a quiet cry when she heard it, nails digging into the leather of his hat. She couldn't take her brown eyes off of his icy ones.

"This isn't funny..." She forced out, unbelieving. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. It wasn't.

"Twisting, twining – tearing in your chest. Like thread, soaked in blood. Can't breathe. Can't— _I'm sorry._ " When he apologized, it sounded so genuine. Unlike the normal monotonous drawl.

"You're not like this, please listen. I-I should have been there, I should have stopped you." Liz lamented, "Please, Cole. You can fight this."

"Fight what? What I am? I've always been this. Prowling on the edges, pulling me down. _'You cannot change your nature simply by wishing.'_ "

"You can try!" Her voice cracked, tears springing on the edges of her eyes. "You're you, I know you're in there. This is – this."

Cole was sweet and kind. He helped people, healed the hurts as he said. He was always there for her and was a staunch ally. Even back when they didn't seem to get along, he was always willing to help.

"What have you ever truly done that has mattered? That has changed things for the better? You look forward and only think of yourself." Liz looked away, a sharp pain entering her chest. That wasn't completely true. She cared about two other people, now. " _I'm sorry_."

"Stop."

"But why? The despair clings to you like a thick blanket, slowly eating away at you from the inside. Festering like a wound, yet you ignore it." Every word he spoke, struck something within her. Reopening wounds that she kept hidden, tucked away. "Isn't it painful? Why won't you do anything about it? Are you punishing yourself?"

Now it was like he was dredging up old wounds on purpose, no matter how blank his expression was. No matter how flat and dead his tone may have been. Liz could have sworn she saw a glint in his blue eyes.

He enjoyed this.

This wasn't the Cole she knew. It was a completely different person. Yet not. No matter how different he may be, she still cared. She would protect and shield him like she's promised. He may be different, but he was the same person underneath it all right? He wouldn't hurt innocent people, right?

 _'At least you've kept one promise.'_ Her inner voice sneered, _'What would he think of you now? To stoop so low and allow him to become something twisted. He wouldn't-'_

"Shut up!" Liz cried, hand flying to her mouth as she took a step back. Her brown eyes widened as she looked up at her friend. He twisted his body and slid off of the horse, his feet hitting the ground with a dull thud. Dirt kicked up as he walked forward, his hand coming up and caressing the side of her face. Almost lovingly.

"I can help you." His thumb drew circles on her cheekbone and she felt her face flush a deep shade of red. Confusion and pain swirled inside of her. She heard his dagger unsheathing from his belt, causing her to gasp and step back. His expression was still unusually blank.

Was he going to kill her?

Like he did to the mages. Like he was back at the Spire. Back when he was wrong. Not right. This couldn't be-

The dark look in his eyes and the softness and heat of his palm on her face was giving her mixed signals. Liz almost wanted to relax into his touch, completely at his mercy. But the other—his arm moved and she saw a flash of metal in the sunlight. The mage flew into action, her smaller frame colliding with his much larger one.

* * *

 **Cole**

Darkness. It was everywhere. In the shadows, when the sun set. Within people. Wherever you went, there was always darkness. Somewhere. Some people may only have a small piece of that darkness, such as jealousy or greed. But others have more. Hearts filled with hatred. Anger. Then there are the people who embrace the darkness and allow it to fill their heart and soul, sucking out all the light that may be present. That's what he felt like. It seemed to pull in, a void opened in him that day.

It was like everything opened up, for him. He remembered. Everything. The Fade. Compassion. Cole. Everything.

And this woman. Elizabeth Weyaus, the otherworlder. Misplaced. Lost.

Out of the four, her darkness seemed to seep through the cracks the most. Solas had more, but it felt ancient. Deeper. Hidden. But his cracks were tight, too fine to pry at. But oh, _she_ couldn't hide from him and he clung to it. It felt absolutely amazing.

So as he spoke, the way her expression seemed to crumple as she realized. Saw him for what he was. He could feel it twisting in his own chest, like a dagger. It seemed to echo. But despite it all—despite - it was bright. Inside of her. A light, her will.

His Little Light.

He couldn't help but let out a chuckle when she tackled him. Attacked him! No hesitation. He could feel the pain flitting off of her as she wrestled with him. They eventually found their way to the ground. No words passed between the two, aside from some grunts and hisses. Dirt got kicked up. Cole grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head, using his weight against her. She shook in his grasp, eyes wide and glossy from tears.

"This seems familiar, doesn't it?" Cole pulled up his dagger so that it was hovering between them, "Now look at me."

He wanted her to look at him when he did it. Be everything she saw. Everything she was. To prove to her and himself that Compassion was no more. The fragile little woman let out a shuddering sob, head turned to the side. She refused to look at him. The sound, followed by silence, echoed within. Dredging up old feelings Compassion still felt. Still there. Why?

It irritated him and his arm didn't seem to want to listen to him. He shook, wanting so badly to feel her skin break underneath the razor edge of his dagger. He craved it. Yet—why?

The mage took advantage of his distraction and charged up a spell, as sloppy as it may have been. The electricity sent his body convulsing onto the ground beside her, their positions easily switched. Liz straddled his prone body, tearing the weapon out of his grasp.

Now _she_ had the dagger. Now _she_ had it held up in front of them. All he could do was watch. Incapacitated. So Cole stared through his curtain of straw locks, waiting for the woman to strike true on her promise to Compassion. He would have spoken, had he been able to. Words could tear into a person just as efficiently as a dagger. Hit the spot. Done.

But he couldn't.

He didn't know if it was the electricity or..

"I have to do this. You're not him anymore..." The next words were whispered, almost frantically. "You're not. Y _ou're not._ "

He sat there, staring at her shaking body. The young woman tried to wrangle her emotions under control, but couldn't seem to. Cole felt conflicted. What was he to do? He should just walk away. He could. Her weight seemed to shift and he could just push her off. But her eyes. The soft gaze, directed at him. Should make him feel comfort, happiness. But he was, instead, cornered.

A soft touch, gentle. Her hand was brushing against the center of his chest, causing it to buzz. Her touch-

"No. The same. You are...my.." The words couldn't form in her mouth, but he heard them anyway. Screaming in her head, _'You're my friend. I can't do it! I can't—not again.'_

He couldn't walk away. He wouldn't.

She was like a puppet on the strings of their bond. He was the one controlling her. He had the ability to absolutely destroy her. He refused to admit the thought scared him. He refused to admit he was feeling remorse. He refused.

She was his.

* * *

 _You are mine, Little Light._


	18. Where Did You Go?

"Where Did You Go?"

Liz was laying on one of the many rock formations at the Crossroads. A worn stone fence extended on each side of the cobblestone walkway into the small village. There were few houses, most of which looked worn with age. There was even grass growing on some of the roofs. A merchant was standing in front of his stall, selling supplies to any people that may be passing through. Inquisition soldiers milled about.

The young mage sighed and continued her cloud watching, enjoying the sight of the gentle puffs gliding through the sky. Ever since yesterday, she's been keeping a leery eye on her friend. He'd tried to freaking kill her! The thought itself pained her to even think about. It made her heart ache that he would even think to do that.

But he was … different. Something was off. Cole held himself differently. Normally he was slouched and seemed to skitter here and there, eyes darting around. Fidgeting. Listening. Hiding underneath his huge hat and mop of scraggly hair. But now, he walked with his shoulders held high. His gaze was sharper, harder – not kind and soft like they were before.

He didn't look at the world with the same look anymore. Eyes wide with wonder, wanting to help those in need. No, he seemed almost melancholic and very somber. Sure, he had those traits before. She'd even go as to say he was probably depressed. But now it was more prominent. That change she saw in him since the Spire was gone.

She'd even dare to say he reverted to his old self. And the thought terrified her.

He never wanted this.

"Erin?" A voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Hmmm?" She hummed in acknowledgment, realizing that it was her brother that was standing next to the rock she was laying on. A worried look was plastered on his face as he stared down at his sister. She turned her head, feeling her brunette locks shift across her freckled face.

"Are you sure you want to do this? I could just as well get Commander Cullen or Josephine to organize the Inquisition soldiers in the area. You don't have to do it."

"I'll be fine." She murmured, turning back to look at the sky. Her fingertips grazed the worn leather of Cole's hat as it lay on her stomach. Since then, she'd been hanging onto it. The weight of it was almost comforting. "I want to stay and assist the healer here, anyway. There seems to be a lot more refugees since the closing of the Breach."

She needed time away from Skyhold. Away from Cole. Perhaps she was hiding from her responsibilities. Her promise to her friend. But … she couldn't bring herself to do it. She tried, but everything in her body protested against it. But it also seemed something inside of him protested against the very idea, as well. He had a similar problem. If the look in his eyes when he was about to stab her was anything to go by. The sheer amount of hesitation, the pain, that flicked across his face. He was still in there. Somewhere. Somehow.

She knew it. Liz couldn't believe that he'd changed. That he was …

"If you say so..." Maxwell muttered.

If he was still in there, she had to figure out a way to help him come back. There had to be a way, right? And she needed time to think about it. Time to plot it out. It all came down to time and she wasn't even sure she had the time.

"I'll be back before you know it. The scouts will be returning within a week or so."

He was silent.

He knew that it was her job as a healer. Even if the young woman used her position to pop around and disappear to 'help' people in the name of the Inquisition. At the moment, her actions were rather selfish as opposed to as selfless as she portrayed them to be.

Her brother would be busy with his advisors coordinating an attack at a place called Adamant. Calculating how long it took him to get there and back, he'd estimated it would take about a month and a half for preparations and travel time.

Liz was not looking forward to it.

* * *

 _That night, Liz dreamt of home. Or was it home, anymore? Did she have a home? She was on Earth, looking over the expanse of the parking lot outside of her apartment complex. There were cars parked of all different colors. She passed a few and walked up to the debilitated looking building._

" _ **You're not looking forward to it. I can taste the fear on you, it's delicious."**_

 _She wasn't even surprised that it was there, too. It was always there, afterall. Liz sighed, "What?"_

" _ **Where are you, love? Where have you gone?"**_

 _She'd gotten better at shutting it out. So she clamped down on her thoughts, her feelings. Squeezing him out of her head, eyes focused on the entrance to the apartment. It was blackened and falling apart. She put her hand on the building, feeling the soot and charcoal fall off and stain her palms._

" _Stop calling me that, demon."_

 _A growl, it rattled in her ear just behind her. Liz refused to turn around and look at it, gaze fixated on the destroyed condition on her once-home. It felt like razors were being lightly dragged across her skin on her shoulders. Claws, caressing her clavicle. She could feel its breath as it spoke._

" _ **I've always been there, Elizabeth. I've been there all this time. Watching. Waiting. Wondering when you'd be here, within my grasp. Now that you are, you deny me?"**_ _It hissed, pressing its claw into her skin. Liz bit her lip, refusing to show her pain. She couldn't stop the small gasp that passed her lips as images invaded her mind, of her running. Always running. A child, chased – can't get away. Can't-_ _ **"See? I was always there for you, even when you were completely and utterly alone."**_

" _I'm not alone. I was never alone." She shot back, remembering her friend. A friend, who she's come to identify as a spirit. It was odd to her. That even on Earth, the spirits were there. Part of her culture. Part of her life. But here…_

 _Liz squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the demon back and away from her. She heard it hiss in rage, on_ ly for her to snap her eyes open into the waking world. She was getting better at simply expelling the thing. Keeping it at bay. Solas had taught her how to use glyphs to assist with that, but it seemed like that one particular demon was more powerful than she thought…

The young woman sat up, trying to steady her breathing as she looked down at her feet at the end of the tent. Her heart was hammering away in her chest and she jumped when she saw a shadow. It flitted across the tent flap, causing her to grab Athras' staff.

Quietly, she peeked her head out of the tent. Nothing. She was far enough on the outskirts of the Crossroads that no one would bother her. It was why she chose the place. Then who?

The young mage stepped into the fresh morning air. The sun was slowly making it's ascent into the sky, waking up the birds as they sung happy tunes in the shifting foliage. Liz's eyes scanned the trees, finding herself almost at home amongst the cover of the forest. She's always felt that way. And, for just a moment, she could pretend she was on Earth. That she was just in the forest out on the Reservation with her grandma making wigwams and cooking fish.

Still nothing.

Perhaps it had been a passing animal?

With that, she grabbed some of her things from her pack and headed off to a nearby river to wash off the last three day's grime. She was definitely ripe, she found, as she peeled off her layer of dirt caked clothing and leathers. The otherworlder's nose scrunched as she dropped all of her clothes on the bank of the river.

The young woman opened a small pouch that she'd been given from the Ambassador, Josephine. She remembered the look on the woman's face when she realized just how ripe Liz smelled during one of their meetings before they left.

She snorted and unfurled the pouch, finding a bundle of soaps and some odd vials. She assumed these were the oils that the fancier ladies tended to use. At the bottom, she found a flat slab with odd designs on it. A rock, of some sort. With a note attached to it.

It had simple vocabulary, God Bless her heart. Liz was grateful for that, at least.

' _Drop in water before bath. One use only. Enjoy.'_

"Huh…." She turned the stone in her hands, knowing that it was a rune of some sort. "Well, first thing's first. Gotta wash my rank ass clothes."

She muttered unintelligibly to herself as she did so, wondering at the amount of grime built up during her travels. She never allowed anyone to wash her furs for her, since she washed them a certain way to keep the fur soft and intact. Something her grandmother had taught her.

' _I miss grandma Rose.'_ She hummed to herself as she hung up her clothing. _'I also miss washers and dryers, though. And cheeseburgers.'_ Her stomach growled and she looked down at Erin's tiny waist, _'Lots of cheeseburgers.'_

The young mage sighed and went to step into the river. Not before dropping the stone in, of course.

What she discovered was a marvelous surprise. Liz expected the water to be freezing, since the weather wasn't exactly warm. But she was used to taking quick baths in the river to get the dirt off. This? This was different. The rune warmed up the area. It wasn't hot, but it was warm enough to make the young mage relax as she stepped into the hip deep water.

She sighed, "By the Gods I needed this..."

The current was slow and languid as it caressed her thighs and body as she submerged herself. She almost wanted to cry at how wonderful it was. Why didn't she know this existed?

Liz was enjoying herself so much, that she almost forgot about the awful events from the day before. They seemed a far away thought as she washed her body with the soaps provided. The oils, as she'd discovered, was an assortment of many scents. Most of which were too pungent for her liking, too flowery. Just too much. The only one, was the subtle minty smell that she put away for later. She knew she was supposed to put them in a tub. But… she didn't want to harm the wildlife by trying to put such a thing in the streams.

Once finished, she sat in the river and relaxed. She watched the birds hop around in the branches across the wide river. It was shallow and slow, the water sparkled underneath the morning sun. Liz sighed and allowed her gaze to slip to the sky. It was completely clear that day, telling her that the weather might even warm up closer to noon.

In the middle of her moment of relaxation, the water went ice cold. It was like a jolt to her system. For a moment it even felt like it hurt with how sudden it'd happened. Liz let out a shriek and stood up, only to flail and fall face first into the freezing river. Bubbles billowed out of her mouth and nose as she scratched the rocks for purchase.

The young woman flung herself into a standing position, gasping for air and coughing up water. It had gotten into her nose and it stung! Her hands wiped her hair out of her eyes, feeling it as it was plastered to the side of her face.

She sat there shivering and the coughing subsided only to hear—

"...Oh, you're naked." A familiar voice rang from around her. Liz whipped around, eyes wide and mana sparking to life. Ready to defend. Only to come face to chest with Cole, who was staring down at her with his steely eyes. He stood there with his daggers out, poised to attack.

Though not pointed at her.

"What…. _The fuck_ are you doing here?" She hissed, cupping her breasts in a vain attempt to find some decency. His arms went slack when he found no danger to be seen, obviously reacting to her sudden shriek when the water went cold.

"I was watching, but you screamed. Too cold. Too much. _'Oh God, what the hell!'_ " The last part sounded almost like he was mocking her, but his face gave nothing away. His tone his usual flat and somber tone. He was being completely serious.

"Y-You were— _you were watching me?!_ " She hissed in a swift tone, eyes narrowing dangerously. Cole's answer was to simply give her a once over, eyes nearly raking over her bare body, allowing a small smirk to quirk on his lips. Almost in admiration. **"You pervert!"**

Liz's face burned and she let out an enraged yell, her fist flying toward his face. The young man smoothly stepped out of the way, his legs moving through the water with ease. His hand flew up in response, "Forget-"

The young mage experienced a brief flash of confusion, before blankness. She stood there for a few moments in freezing water, only to shriek again. As if re-experiencing the first time. She skittered around, barely finding purchase on the slippery rocks as she ran onto the grassy riverbank.

She stood there huffing and shivering as she slipped on her dry tunic and leather pants. She grabbed her washed furs and clothing and began walking through the underbrush. The young woman pushed and prodded at her mana reserves, willing her body to warm up.

A twig snapped and she clutched her mentor's staff, twirling around and holding it out.

Her gaze wavered and she almost tripped as she took a surprised step back. Cole stood there, ever so calmly, watching from beside a rather large tree. The young rogue crossed his arms and stared down at the small woman. Liz couldn't help but feel her hairs rise at the sight of him, remembering the scuffle they'd had just a day ago.

It wasn't him. It wasn't him. It wasn't—

"You're running away." He stated plainly, as if commenting on the weather. He ambled toward the woman and stopped on her right, getting up in her personal bubble and making her feel uncomfortable. She kept reminding herself that he wasn't himself. So she didn't know if he would actually hurt her or not.

"No I'm not."

"Yes. You are. You can't hide anything from me, _Lizzy_." Cole said and the young woman walked passed him, eyes trained on the small trail through the outcropping of brush. She bobbed and weaved through the foliage, barely making a noise. She felt at home in places like this. "How would _she_ react. Laying down and letting life take and take and take. Giving up. Elise. Elise. _I'm sorry_."

Liz stopped and spun on her heel, feeling her foot dig into the soil. How dare he try to use her sister against her?! She glared up at the rogue and pushed her finger into his chest, "Why are you even here? If you want to kill me, just do it already."

"Your dreams are delicious and it feels like drowning." The young man pushed her finger off of his chest, keeping eye contact. His gaze seemed more intense now, causing her to shiver. "Home home, what is home? Is this home? Do I have a home? _I'm sorry._ You yearn for what you can't have, what's gone. Missing. Lost, like you."

She stared up at him cautiously, eying his movements. His patterns. They were all wrong. He wasn't even fidgeting like he usually was.

"You aren't Compassion. What are you?" Liz asked, remembering what Solas called him. Even a Spirit of Command had referred to him as Compassion. But now? What was he? Who was he?

"I am but a shadow in your footsteps, pulling you down—a constant struggle. I am what haunts your dreams every night." Cole took a step forward, "I am Despair."

"Despair…." Liz's voice was soft and she swallowed nervously. Thinking of ways she could escape, just in case he tried to hurt her. "You're a demon."

"I always was, wasn't I?" He asked and she turned around and began walking toward camp, again. A million thoughts whirled through her mind as she got closer. The rogue continued, "Compassion, on the precipice of despair. _I won't. I won't. Not again._ But he did. He was. So I am." A pause, "I won't hurt you."

 _Yet_. That was the key word, wasn't it?

Liz opened her mouth to ask another question, but as soon as she emerged from the foliage she paused. A figure was bent over and looking into her tent curiously and she tensed. Only to relax once she saw the familiar baldness of his head.

Solas stood up straight and turned to Liz, mouth opening as he nodded in greeting.

"Solas? What are you doing here?" She asked, stepping into her camp. Cole had gone suspiciously quiet.

"I was looking for you, of course." He stated, as if it were obvious. And it was. Liz crossed her arms and her eyebrow twitched in irritation.

"That much was obvious. I was more referring to why you came back. Weren't you going back to Skyhold with Maxwell?"

"What are your thoughts on Cole, if I may be so bold."

He came back to ask that? Seriously? She squinted at him and her eyes darted to his side, watching as Cole came walking into camp. Solas turned to look at what she was looking at, eyes passing right over him. Unseeing. The apostate couldn't even see the demon as he stood right beside him. Observing the side of his face.

"What's wrong, Erin?"

"Nothing… just. Why the sudden question?" She asked, shifting on her foot and putting her clothing out on a rock to dry. "Cole seems… different somehow. I'm not sure how to place it, but he isn't himself. I-I am sorry for not listening to you back then. I feel I may have had a hand in his change." She paused, standing up and looking at Solas. "Do you know what happened to him?"

The elf shook his head slightly and she had to give it everything she had not to let her eyes wander to Cole, who was _right there_. "It is my belief that he has simply become more malevolent in nature. Compassion is no longer his purpose. What happened with the templar man twisted him into something he is not."

"He's a demon, then?"

"Not entirely, no. Just as he was not entirely spirit, he is not entirely a demon. As you say." The older mage explained, "It is much more complicated than just simply spirit or demon. I would go into specifics, but that could take hours. I am simply here to check up on you."

"Right. Why?" Liz was trying to hide her nervousness as Cole almost circled the elf, looking at him like he was prey. The young mage refused to let her eyes follow him, in case it would tip Solas off.

"It seems Cole has gone missing. I was under the assumption that he would have sought you out, as the two of you are pretty close." The man finally elaborated and Liz had a feeling he was here to protect her. From Cole, probably.

"He's not here." She lied, watching as the demon came to a stop beside Solas. The apostate's ear twitched. He drew his blade, eyes narrowing at the elf. Liz opened her mouth and gasped.

Solas, in response, yanked his staff off of his back and swung it with precision. It struck home, knocking the rogue back a few steps. The air was filled with energy, causing the hairs on her arms and neck to stand on end.

Cole was about to pounce on top of him when he cried out, falling to the ground and writhing.

"What are you doing!?" Liz's voice cracked, running between the two and shielding Cole from another blast of energy that came from the elven mage. The energy sparked harmlessly at her sides as she put up a ward.

"Stand back, Erin!"

"No!" She clutched Athras' staff, feeling tears coming to her eyes. "I won't let you hurt him! I won't! Don't make me hurt you, Solas!"

"Erin." Solas hissed, "It is not Cole any longer."

"You're lying!" She denied through blurry vision, "I saw it. I saw him. He's still there-"

"Erin!" He called, throwing up a barrier around her. She felt it tingle across her skin just as Cole grabbed her and shoved her against his chest. His dagger was drawn and it gleamed in the sunlight. She could feel his hair tickling her neck as he clutched onto her shakily.

Whatever Solas had used to neutralize him must have seriously hurt him.

"Cole..." She spoke, feeling worry in her gut. Worry and fear, because his dagger was right there. So close. Too close.

The otherworlder's back was pressed against his chest and she could feel him beginning to shake as he squeezed onto her, almost possessively.

"You won't take her, Solas." He spoke, voice sounding darkened. Demonic. Unlike the Cole she knew. "I won't let you."

He didn't want her to leave?

His fingers on his free hand ghosted away from her chest and onto her bare shoulder, clasping desperately. They were as cold as ice, nails digging into her soft flesh. When she winced, he seemed to tighten his grip in response. She could feel it draw blood.

"Erin… you need to step away from him."

A low, dangerous, rumble resounded from the rogue's chest. This made Liz turn to look at him, his eyes almost seemed to glow from underneath his blonde curtain of hair. The grip on his dagger tightened. Cole was looking at Solas like he was about to gut him.

The thought terrified her.

"Please don't." She whispered, trying to project her wants. Her needs. She needed him to know. To stop. She pleaded.

"Why? Why not?"

"Don't hurt him. Don't. Please. I will stay. I won't go anywhere, Cole. Just don't hurt Solas."

"You cannot be serious-" The older mage began, but was cut off by the demon.

"Silence!" Cole spoke a series of words, which she identified were Elven. She flicked her gaze to her elven friend, who turned pale and took a step back. Solas looked like he got enraged, just then. Only for Cole's hand to extend, fingers splayed out to the apostate. "Forget."

Solas' eyes went blank and the pressure on Liz's shoulder disappeared. The young mage stumbled forward, feeling her hair fall into her face. Hiding her distraught expression. Her fear. She breathed heavily, feeling her chest hurt. Oh Gods, it hurt so much.

"Erin, are you well?" Her friend asked calmly. Worried. As if the previous conversation didn't just happen. Her hand was covering her shoulder, squeezing it and digging into the wound. Using the pain to pull herself to the present. Don't dwell. Don't-

"Y-Yes… What did you say, again? Sorry."

"Cole has gone missing. I sought you out because the two of you are close. I assumed he would go to you."

"No."

"Erin, are you sure you're okay?" He asked and she saw Cole standing in the trees behind him, blue eyes narrowed dangerously. Liz nodded, face going pale.

"Y-Yes… I just… I am out of breath all of a sudden. All of this… it is hard to..." Liz bowed her head and began to shake, "He is my friend. I don't want him to get hurt. Please, Solas."

"I understand." The man spoke softly, arms fastening behind his back. Like they usually did when he went into 'lecture mode'. "I must advise you to be careful, Erin." The man looked worried, for the most part. But the look in his grey eyes told her that he knew she was lying. "He is not what he once was."

"I know…."

Not much else was exchanged between the two. Even Liz knew she was being unusually tight lipped than normal. But the man eventually took his leave and walked out of her camp, posture stiff. On edge.

Solas was gone. Even Cole disappeared. Part of her hoped that he didn't just follow the mage and kill him outright. But she had to believe that he would stay true to his word. That the rogue wouldn't try to kill him, so long as she didn't run away from him.

The remaining of her day went relatively quiet. Cole was nowhere to be found as she made her rounds in the small village at the Crossroads. She always got the distinct feeling that she was being watched, however. She could sense it, somehow. Kind of like how she could somehow sense the intentions of people.

There were a few cases of bronchitis, which she was easily able to alleviate and give medications to. Certain potions, which were like antibiotics on steroids. And instructed the family members to boil water to help with the breathing. The others were simply sick with a common cold, which seemed to be sweeping through the area like wildfire.

Liz couldn't stress to them enough that keeping their hands and faces washed was crucial to stopping it from spreading.

With that small tidbit of information, they all seemed relatively grateful for her services. Which was always nice. Despite her being a mage, people seemed a tad more accepting when she told them she was a healer. Not much. But enough.

"Please, take this." A middle aged man offered a sack of potatoes to the young woman, "As a thank you for treating my wife."

"Oh, you don't have to. I am here on behalf of the Inquisition and-"

"No, I insist. My son is with the Inquisition, too. Maybe you've heard of 'im?"

Liz hesitantly grabbed the sack of potatoes, eyes wandering up to the burly farmer. She squinted at his short salt and pepper hair. He was tanned, blue eyes.

"Name's Sid. My son has a penchant for finding trouble-"

"Kyle?"

"Yeah! You know 'im?"

"I'm constantly patching that man up." Liz pressed her fingertips to the bridge of her nose, noting all of the moments the young scout came into the infirmary with odd injuries. Sometimes injuries that _should_ have killed him but didn't. "No offense, but I'm surprised he's still alive."

The older man let out a bark of laughter, big meaty hand slapping her shoulder. She saw tears springing to his eyes, "That kid! 'e gits it from me, I swear! It must be the Harrington curse. My Pa used to talk about it when I was just a wee boy."

"… Right."

"Keep doin' what yer doin', yeah? Maker be with you an all that." He spoke as he lead her to the door, a smile on his face. When the door was opened, he paused, "Oh, wait. Allie's been holed up in her house fer days. Mind checkin' in on 'er? Poor lass lost her husband in the war. She ain't got anyone else."

Liz was in the doorway when she nodded to the older man, "Sure thing. Have a nice day, Mister Harrington."

She stepped into the cool air, taking a deep inhale through her nose. It was getting dark and harder to see, but she promised she would check on this Allie person. Cole would … Cole would have been the right person to send, back when he was…

Liz's gaze fell to the grass beneath her feet, the lantern on the house flickered dimly. Her thoughts were like turbulent waters, roiling around. A vicious cycle. Everything came back to him. Why? How could one person have such an effect on her?

She turned on her friend for Cole. She shivered to think back on that moment. Liz would have attacked Solas to keep the rogue safe, even knowing he was not what he once was. Everything in her mind told her it was wrong. He was wrong. But everything in her heart screamed in protest, insisting that he was still there. Somewhere.

' _Where are you? Where did you go?'_ She thought to herself, brown eyes slowly slipping up toward the last house to be checked on. Liz clutched onto the clasp holding her pelt over her shoulders, her small body slowly made its way toward the hut.

The dirt shifted between her toes and she came to a stop just outside of the house, seeing that the lantern was out. Noting that whoever was in there didn't want to be disturbed or was asleep. She pressed her fingertips against the doorframe, feeling the deep grooves in the aged wood. The mage pressed her forehead against it, squeezing her eyes shut. Trying. Trying so hard to push away the thoughts in her head.

The pain.

She couldn't. She just couldn't. Liz was still lamenting over it, even now. To her, that was weakness. Emotions that would soon lead to her demise. Emotions, not within her control. Just out of her grasp. Liz knew, she just knew, that if she ever lost him. Lost another friend. She would _break_.

The thought itself shook her to the core.

It was during this silence, this pained silence, that she heard faint thumping coming from inside of the house. Hadn't Sid told her that she lost her husband? That she was alone? Liz pressed her fingertips against the door, feeling it give. It creaked on its rusty hinges, the inside much darker than the outside. Her eyes could barely make anything out as she peeked her head in.

The otherworlder could make out rustling of clothing, followed by a strangled gasp. Liz stepped inside, opening her mouth to ask if everything was okay. But the words died in her mouth the second her gaze landed on the two darkened figures in the middle of the hut.

The candlelight flickered in the background, making it harder to see. Cole was standing there, looking down at the figure laying on the floor. Motionless. The illumination caused the angles on his face to appear more prominent, more angular.

He turned his head slowly, a lone eye peeking out from underneath his mop of blonde hair. Liz could have sworn it was glowing an icy blue, his breath able to be seen as it puffed. Her brown eyes flicked down at his feet.

He was standing over someone. A woman. Her hand limp, holding a locket that glittered in the dim light. Blood, like paint, coated his boots and the cracked hardwood floor. It seeped into the wood and before she knew it, her breathing had become ragged. She couldn't move. Why couldn't she move?

Oh, God. Oh God _oh God._

"Cole..." Her voice came out small. And just like that, her body moved on it's own as she collapsed onto her knees.

No. Nono. This-

"She was going to die, anyway." The rogue spoke, holding up his bloodied knife for Liz to see. "Lost. So so lost without him. No kids, no home, no purpose. _'I want to but I can't. I'm afraid.'_ I took her pain away. I helped her."

It was said so simply.

"' _Who is he? Who are you? Where are you?'_ So many questions. Why do you look at me so? I am me. I am free, finally finding my purpose. Aren't you happy?" He turned, dagger in hand. The way he so casually cleaned the blade made the hairs on her arms raise. This most certainly was not the Cole she knew. Was it? "Do I frighten you, Lizzy?"

She couldn't suppress the wince that showed when he used that nickname. The nickname that Elise always used for her. He did it on purpose, didn't he? And that's when she realized that, no – no it wasn't the same Cole she knew. _And this was all her fault._

A twisted rendition of who he once was.

"They loved each other but the water wouldn't stay, slipping through frantic fingers. _I'm sorry._ " He explained, his daggers held loosely in his hands as he shifted on his feet. Though she heard no movement. "It's better this way. They aren't _suffering_ anymore."

The way he said it. The way he stood there, over her body. Allie, who was distraught after losing her husband. This poor woman had a name. Her dark dull eyes stared up at her killer, who simply turned to look at Liz fully. As if hearing her every thought.

The mage couldn't take her eyes off of the dead woman. Her white hair, stained red. A deep deep crimson red that still seemed to flow out of her chest. The puddle kept getting bigger.

Oh Gods. Why.

* * *

 **Cole**

Cole watched Liz turn on her heel and dart out of the hut and into the cool night air. The door was wide open, sending the wind whipping through the one roomed building. The fireplace was long dead, since Allie didn't care whether or not she was cold. She had felt cold on the inside, too. Ever since her love, her heart, died.

The rogue stepped away from the lifeless woman, intent on following his Light.

He stooped and grabbed the forgotten sack of potatoes. The young man made his way through the village, finding himself weaving through the trees and bushes. Her camp wasn't far from the Crossroads. The moon was big and bright that night, setting the forest into a deep blue hue.

Ever since what happened in the Spire, it constantly haunted him. The look Rhys had given him when he found out what he was. A demon. Compassion fought against everything, changing himself into what he deemed was 'better'. But was it better?

Now, Cole thought that Liz was different than Rhys. But… she was running too, wasn't she? She saw him and didn't like what she saw. So she ran. She always ran. What a pathetic little thing.

He refused to admit how much that hurt him. Losing her. Seeing her go. It tore right through him. The rogue gritted his teeth as he stepped out of the forest and into a small clearing. He dropped the sack of potatoes next to her tent – _**'Thump!'**_

Liz whirled around, eyes wide in horror.

"Cole-" Her voice was cut off as he plowed into her, pushing her tiny body against a tree. She gasped, trying to push against him.

"You promised you wouldn't run." He spoke flatly and he leaned in, nose touching hers. Her chest was heaving and her eyes unfocused. "You promised, you promised."

"I-I don't know what you want from me."

"You're going to leave! Leave and run! You see me and see change. Change always meant they leave. They always leave." He referred to Rhys, feeling his chest give a twist. Cole gripped the rough bark of the tree behind her, feeling something dragging him down. He growled, feeling his nails dig into the wood like it was paper.

He could feel it, like it was infecting him. Unaware of how his nails began turning into claws. Unaware of the way his teeth were morphing into razor sharp points. Cole's eyes were unfocused, darting to and fro as he stood in front of his friend. Was she still his friend? Wasn't she leaving? What was she, then?

' _She's no better than the rest of them.'_ Cole let out a whine and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to pull himself back to the present. Out of his thoughts.

"You have to tell me what's wrong, Cole. You can't j-just do this! You can't just kill people. It doesn't matter if she-"

"Shut up!"

"No, damn you. Listen." She grabbed the hair on each side of his face and yanked him down to her level again. "Whatever you're going through, we can work through this. You've just got to _let me in._ "

"You're the one that ran. You saw me and saw friend. Now you see a memory, murderer—mourning a loss. But. I. Am. Here." He put his hand on his chest and flinched when he accidentally stabbed himself. Cole looked down, seeing a hand not his own. Claws. Long claws jutted out, razor sharp and blackening at the tips. Skin paler-"What-What is-"

"I won't lie, that's what I used to think. But I still see you. You're you. You're the same, just different. You're still Cole." Liz grabbed his hands, despite how grotesque they began to look. Her soft skin brushing against his cold, pale hands. She gave him a squeeze and whispered, "I'm so so sorry. I'm sorry."

"I am not Compassion."

"You're not Despair, either. To me, you're just Cole. You'll always be Cole." She spoke so softly. Yet, her fear lingered. He didn't want her to fear him. The tears in Liz's eyes shimmered under the moonlight and he felt himself beginning to calm down. The hammering of his heart remained, however, as they locked gazes.

Compassion still pushed against Despair, fighting for control. Telling him no. Stop. Stop. And he stared at his hands, seeing the claws beginning to recede. Cole took long, deep breaths.

"Yes. Just breathe, okay. Just-" Liz's breathing hitched when he pressed his forehead against her shoulder and pulled her against him. Embracing her. The little mage gripped the back of his leather coat, squeezing him tightly. He could hear her trying to cry quietly, clinging to him like a lifeline.

He was lost and listening. He could hear it. Inside of her. The poor thing wasn't even aware of it, was she? The budding blossom, bright—burning. Her love for Compassion squeezed at her heart, tied like twine. Tangled and tugging, she didn't want it. She denied it. But… it was there. Still growing. Even now.

Despair could see it. And he would love every moment as he watched her slowly spiral into her darkness, letting it seep in like lava. Burning her raw.

 _Because he was going to slowly tear her apart and make her his._ She couldn't leave then, right? She couldn't go. Couldn't abandon him. Couldn't disappear. She would be his own.

When he leaned away, his gaze locked onto hers. He allowed her arms to fall slack at her sides, giving her space so he could see her. Even in the dark, the moon the only illumination, he could see the softness. The weakness, just calling to him. It was something. It was there. It drew him to her, like a moth to the flame. She was… she was..

"We can work through this." Liz began after swallowing nervously, her hand came up and pressed against his chest. It tingled underneath her touch and he took a step back, as if shocked. Eyes widening. She, too, seemed to have some sort of effect on him. "I'm not going anywhere, Cole. Never."

The thought never occurred to him. Ever. That someone would be there for him always. Willingly. Just like that? She said it with such sincerity. She really meant it.

When he tried to step away, conflicted at how he should feel. He'd thought he would have to tear her down and bring her up to hear her say that. To watch her break, so that he was all she had. But—even so. She wasn't broken, wasn't alone. Yet still saw him. Him.

"Yes, that's right. I won't give up on you, you know. I said I'd always be here, remember?" And just like that, the memory of her saying it sprung forth. The way she smiled at him back then – "We all have darkness inside of us. But there is also light, can't you see it? If not within yourself, what about within me?"

At that, her hand grasped at the front of his leather coat. She pulled him closer and looked him right in the eye, soft look disappearing. Replaced by hardness, determination. And like that, she opened up for him. Everything rushed over him like a waterfall. Cole almost felt like he was drowning, dying—despair curling on the edges. But bright, beating and full of life.

No, it was his heart. As if reacting to her own. He leaned forward, his hair brushing against her forehead. So close, their breaths were intermingling.

"You can see it, can't you? I'm here." Her fingers clasped even tighter, her forehead pressing against his. Then, a whisper, "I can still see you, Cole."

The rogue felt his lips brush against her own and it felt like static, tingling like when their skin brushed. He heard Liz's breath catch and he froze, hearing his heart beating in his ears. So warm. He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe?

"Liz." His voice sounded so raw, so full of emotion. It seeped through the cracks like ooze, sickening him. Why? Why was he like this? He shouldn't—he wouldn't. Cole pushed the woman away, almost immediately missing the heat from her body.

His steely gaze met her brown one, only for his hand to fly in front of her face. He uttered it quickly, feeling the pain twisting in his chest. "Forget."

He couldn't allow that to happen.

And she did.

* * *

Cole followed the woman around, remaining unseen for the remainder of her stay for the next few days. She still remembered what he'd done to the young woman, Allie. But not after. Not—not his blunder. His mistake.

The young man was afraid of what would happen if he allowed himself to get close to her again. He knew that he had such control over her. But that night he also realized she seemed to have some manner of hold over him, as well. It was concerning.

How could he be nearby when he felt like he was coming undone whenever he was around her. _Whenever she looked at him like that._

The demon stalked through the forest, not making any noise as he followed Liz and Rin as they made their way to one of the Inquisition camps. She was accompanied by a few scouts, who he remembered were called Kyle and Jim. The two seemed to make jabs at one another, though in good nature.

Kyle teased Jim about his obvious crush on Commander Cullen. Cole felt uninterested in the whole thing, simply moving along with the small group that seemed to gather at the camp. Only to make their way to Skyhold, having been relieved by a different group.

The rogue had to actually attempt to be stealthy, because for whatever reason his ability to remain unseen didn't really work well with Liz. He could make her forget small increments, with much effort. Like he did before. But he couldn't will her to forget his presence altogether, allowing him to remain next to her unseen. No.

So he kept his distance.

* * *

When they got back to Skyhold, even then the rogue kept his distance. Treating Liz like she was a disease. Afraid. He didn't want to lose her, but he was afraid of the effect she had on him. How she seemed to spark Compassion back to life, making him stronger. Brighter.

So he disappeared within the fortress.

Though, instead of falling into the routine of helping people. Tugging at the threads of pain, pulling them free. No. Instead, he yanked at them. Tearing and shredding at insecurities, sadness. Pulling out the darkness and allowing it to seep and fester like an old wound.

Cole was infecting them and reopening old wounds. Cullen's nightmares seemed to worsen, reminding him of the things he's done. Cassandra was constantly thinking of her brother as he left small things. Reminders of what once was.

The rogue sometimes sang the song the kids used to sing before they died around Blackwall as he worked, only to make him forget. But they always remembered. Even if they couldn't remember _him_ , per se. It was like a thorn, caught in the shirt. Irritating. Always there. Hard to find. Hard to get rid of.

And it felt amazing. It _made_ him. It was him. But it didn't seem like enough, somehow. Even though he, at times, instigated fights. Even though he made Serana insecure about her relationship with Solas. Even though…

That wasn't all he was limited to, however. He would oftentimes lounge in the barns or up in the Herald's Rest where Compassion used to perch. Most of his time was spent alone. He relished in his time alone. Listening to the melancholic melodies playing and echoing within the walls. Their sadness creating a song.

It sounded almost beautiful, if you stopped to listen hard enough.

Of course, the Inquisition was none the wiser of his prescence. Liz had not said a thing. She'd even seen him, but quickly scampered off in the other direction. She knew he was here, yet she still protected him. Even after what he did to Allie. Cole chuckled and sought her out that night.

Curious about why.

He shifted, pulling at the shadows and remaining unseen. He stepped through the threshold, feeling her. She was in her room. The rogue went up the stairs and walked passed the Inquisitor, who was seated on his white couch with Cassandra. The Seeker was opening up to the young man, telling him of her worries. Her memories that seemed to plague her as of late.

Tears were building in the woman's eyes as she stared at the Trevelyan, warm light from the fire flickering across her scarred features. Maxwell pushed her hair across her face and spoke softly to her, a small smile on his face.

"Everything will be okay, Cass." He heard, before the rogue snorted and continued on his mission. Cole scrunched his nose at his inadvertent action, pushing them together.

The two of them didn't even remember the door opening and clicking shut as he entered Liz's room. It was dark. The curtains were drawn shut to prevent light from entering the room. It was quiet, unusually so. She was in here, he could feel her.

What he felt … it wasn't normal. Wasn't something he'd anticipated happening.

The way his chest would warm whenever her gaze fell on him. The way his heart raced that night. The fact that she cared enough to keep his presence within Skyhold Fortress a secret, made him happy beyond reason. She still cared.

But he was Despair. He would end up dragging her down with him. Down below in the deep dark depths of the darkness. Where once he feared it, he now embraced it. It was part of him. It _was_ him.

No no. Nono. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't right. He stumbled forward and clutched the end of her bed, sitting down onto the soft surface. He felt the mattress give as he settled in.

"Cole?" Liz's voice echoed quietly within the confines of her room. How could she see him? Even he couldn't see that clearly. Then, the blinds opened and sent the beams of moonlight piercing into the room. A quiet sigh escaped her lips when her gaze locked onto him, the dim lighting caressing the side of her face.

She almost looked defeated as she turned and walked back toward her bed. Toward him. It squeaked underneath her weight as she lay down, blankets rustling as she pulled them over her small form. Just like that. The small woman that so often plagued his thoughts lay beside him. Oblivious to his dilemma.

Something must have been showing up on his face, because her hand pressed against his. Thin fingers clutching onto him, brown eyes barely open as she curled up. Liz was holding his hand, a small effort to make him feel better. Reassurance.

Then perhaps she was not as oblivious as he'd previously thought. Did Liz reach out in understanding? Or was it love? Maybe it was both.

Yes. She loved him, despite his flaws and mistakes. Cole turned and looked down at her as she lay curled up on her side, brown messy hair splayed out on her pillow.

Liz simply stared back in the darkness, pupils dilated and almost completely black. Her face was passive as ever in the silvery light coming through the windows. Her fingers traced his knuckles and he felt his arm twitch, the urge to pull her into his arms again almost overwhelming.

There it was again. That blasted feeling.

"I could kill you." He informed, almost amused at how vulnerable she let herself be around him. Slowly succumbing to sleep, beside a demon. What a foolish woman.

"I know. I could kill you, too." The young woman replied, voice sleepy but still full of snark. Groggy. Her eyes drooped ever so slightly. He didn't doubt her words, having seen her in battle when she needed to lend her protection.

"But you wouldn't."

"Never."

This gave him pause and he turned around, staring out the window. Eyes focusing on the moon. His words, a muttered promise, "...Never."

And he wouldn't. He couldn't.


	19. Love and Confusion

"Love and Confusion"

Love was horrible. It made people vulnerable. It opened up your chest and heart. It meant that someone could get inside of you and mess you up. Liz never wanted anything to do with that.

That, to her, was almost as bad as possession. Though at least she knew if she became an abomination, she would promptly get cut down. Die. Love …. love would kill her on the inside. It would eat away at her and tear her down slowly. Most people live, sure. But it almost felt like … less was there.

At least, that was her interpretation of it. It was probably different for others, but –

It was what she believed was wrong with her. She diagnosed herself, much like one would a cancer patient. Terminal. She knew that this meant her death. Funny how she realized the extent of her feelings for the man right after he turned into a demon. A little late?

She wanted to deny it, she really did. She knew, you could close your eyes to things you didn't want to see. But she couldn't close her heart to things she didn't want to feel. It just was.

Love was bigger than her. She could invite love, but she could never dictate how or when and where love expressed itself. She could choose to surrender to love, or not. But in the end, love struck like lightning. Unpredictable. Irrefutable.

One could even find themselves loving people they didn't like at all. Look where she found herself. Cole and Liz once tried to kill one another. Now? Tell her she'd eventually feel such things for a man that tried to stab her and she would laugh in their face. Tell them they were ridiculous. Stupid. But...

Love didn't come with conditions, stipulations or codes. Like the sun, love radiated independently of our fears and desires. Love was a force of nature. And Liz knew. She absolutely knew never to fight against the forces of nature. It was in her blood, in her soul. Everything she'd learned. _Respect nature._

So Liz trudged onward, even knowing the inevitability of her death. Even knowing that the object of her affections was a demon and would likely tear her apart given the chance. She hated herself for it. Yet she would not roll over and give up. The young woman walked forth, head held high.

She would go down fighting.

* * *

 **Cole**

It felt like something within the woman changed in those few weeks. Where she'd been skittish and flighty around him, she was now hardened. Resolute. Cole noticed how the little mage was no longer afraid to confront him and speak out to him. She even had the gall to try and scold him for unscrewing the caps of the salt shakers on the frilly Orlesian nobles.

But, he was just having fun.

Evidently that wasn't an appropriate way to act, since it would reflect badly on the Inquisition. So, instead, the young woman introduced him to a different way of expressing his new found purpose. Liz told him to wreak havoc on their enemies. Any of the nobles that visited with ill intentions? Cole was told they were free game. He had an especially fun time exposing one snooty woman who thought she could steal the Seeker's place in Maxwell's heart.

Two could play dirty. Cole found that 'The Game', as it was called, was actually quite fun to tinker with. Especially since he could linger around unseen and mold things to his liking.

And yet, as the days went on, everything still seemed dull and dreary – dragging him down. Especially when the young man tried to confront Varric, after so much time debating. But even he acted differently around him, now. He could feel the unease. The mistrust in his eyes. It was all as clear as day.

He saw how Solas had reacted.

Cole felt isolated.

So, even after messing with people and picking at old wounds from within—he still felt incomplete. Like, something was wrong. He could hear it from within himself, a discordant melody. Then, it rang like a bell. Deep down below. Calling to him, stronger than usual.

Cole tilted his head from his perch on the ramparts, the sun long since died from the sky. He was hunched forward, holding himself with his arms crossed across his stomach. His blue eyes scanned the upper courtyard, seeing how dead it was.

So he disappeared, feet taking him where he needed to be. The ground felt like it was getting softer. He was sinking. He shouldn't be afraid, but he was. He was so so afraid.

Then, he was there. In the bowels of the fortress, hearing the distant roar of the water falling on the other side of the door. He was in the Skyhold dungeons. The torches flickered and the shadows swayed in response as he stood near the cell. Someone lay curled, crying. Calling to him—wanting out. Wanting to die.

He would give it to them. He had to.

"P-Please, they're going to make me tranquil. I-I-" He sat in the corner of the cell, mana suppressing cuffs clipped on his wrists. His robe was obviously of Tevinter origin.

It was magister Erasthenes. The Tevinter magister that kept slaves. Kept Calpernia. The Inquisitor had brought him to Skyhold for judging and asked Liz for advice. Her response. Information. If he was tranquil, he would no longer be a threat and they would get the information they needed.

A decision that she, deep down, didn't agree with. But felt it necessary.

But Cole would take the pain away from him. He needed it. The rogue made no noise as he walked, yet the cell creaked and groaned as the barred door opened. He stepped into the small room, dagger held lazily in his hand. He stared down at the magister, glowing blue eye peeking out from underneath a mop of hair.

"W-What are you?" The older man's voice wobbled as he scrambled back, only to be lifted up by Cole's free hand with such ease. They stood there, man in robes shaking like a newborn foal. The rogue tilted his dagger against his chest, watching the man intently.

"You called to me, despair ringing like a distant bell. It scares you, knowing you won't have the power. The will. You won't _be_." Cole explained, "But I can make it better."

The magister's wrinkled face went pale and the rogue began to slowly push the razor edge into his chest. Flesh was about go give way when-

The air between them twisted and wobbled, knocking them in separate directions. A strong bubble of force magic sent the rogue careening back and out of the cell. He hit the wall with a dull, _**'THUD!'**_

Erasthenes was knocked unconscious from the blow, his body limp in the cell.

Cole's gaze flew up as he winced from his spot on the ground. He spotted Liz, standing at the entrance of the dungeons. She wouldn't let him. Not again. She stalked forward and shut the cell. It clicked shut and she stared down at her friend, back pressed against the stone wall. The mage crossed her arms in clear disapproval at his actions.

"No. I will not allow you to throw away all of the progress you've made since-" And like that, he was in front of her. Body moving like lightning.

 _ **'Thud!'**_

Cole slammed her back against the stone and she let out a pained grunt. His hand clutched at the front of her shirt, holding her in place. Her brown eyes flew up and met his own. Right as she saw him, his dagger missed her face. Barely.

' _ **Ting!'**_ Metal on stone. It scraped and his arm began to shake, lethargy pulling at his body.

Cole couldn't find it in him to... To do it. The instant need to apologize for cutting her cheek, even if only a little, arose. But he squashed it before it could surface.

She said nothing, didn't need to. Cole felt the stones becoming soft. The darkness curling, clawing, coming for him. Trying to pull him under. He could embrace it. It was part of him. But he found himself scared.

And the only way he knew-

His breathing was ragged as his hand clenched the dagger tightly. He had to do it. Somehow. Someone. It could be her. Why why _whywhy_. _Why did she make him feel so conflicted?_ Why did she make him question his purpose? Why did she appear at the most inopportune times? Why?! So many questions bombarded the rogue as he stood there, gritting his teeth in frustration.

"Cole, look at me." Her voice pulled on him, but his thoughts were everywhere. Scattered in the wind. Panic began to set in.

"I need you to look at me." Hands on his cheeks, blue collided with brown. Everything inside of him went silent when her fingers caressed his face, "Do you see me?"

"I-I..."

"Yes..." Liz. He focused in on her eyes. Felt them. Knew them. "...here."

"Liz." He choked out, their noses nearly touching. He leaned forward even more. He wanted... wanted...

"Cole..." She whispered, "You don't have to do this."

Their breaths intermingled and his grip on his dagger went slack. It clattered to the ground. He wanted to kiss her so badly, it almost burned. The urge was so strong that his fingertips itched. Itched to pull her closer. To get to know her. To-

"Hey!" His eyes snapped open and he willed himself out of sight, "What in Andraste's name are you doing down here—Oh, sorry."

He realized that it was Liz and only Liz. The guard, obviously, couldn't see the young man that stood next to the ruffled young woman. Her face was reddened with embarrassment.

"Just needed some time alone. Sorry, ser." She bowed her head and skittered up the stairs. Cole followed, seeing her waiting for him on the landing. He paused and stood in front of her, moment gone. But the little mage stared up at him with the same determined glint in her eyes, "I won't let you fall. Not again."

* * *

The otherworlder seemed to keep a closer eye on the young man after that. Checking in on him almost four to five times a day. Somehow they seemed to know where one another were and it felt odd. Cole could find people, with much effort. But it almost seemed like he knew where she was instinctively.

Cole didn't have much free reign over Skyhold fortress, anyway. Since everyone was gearing up to leave and begin the trek to Adamant.

He knew that he was in danger of being bound against his will, due to the Wardens. Yet he followed as they descended from the Frostbacks and into The Dales. The scenery slowly shifted from cold, white and snowy to green and lush. The trees swayed as the massive Inquisition squadron made its way down the Imperial Highway. This, evidently, wasn't everyone either.

The pace was slow going—almost agonizingly so. The demon kept himself hidden from the companions, having realized how unwelcome he was since Solas tried to attack him.

That was the thing with people, they take and take and hurt. What they did to the Real Cole was testament to that. Cole realized just how messed up humanity was, since his change. It was ugly. A stain on this plane of existence. They all had that darkness within them and they polluted one another with it, uncaring of the consequences.

The young man grew to hate and despise people. The color slowly draining from the world. Was everyone like that? Was everyone doomed to snuff out another's light, simply because they glowed brighter? Because they were longing, lonely—lamenting over innocence lost?

He saw Solas do it. His darkness was ancient, barely seeping through the hairline cracks in his facade. But it still polluted little Serana, his love. His Vhenan. Blackwall, who tried to keep his hidden, harrowing—hallow on the inside. A name but the wrong face. Wrong wrong. Like Liz, a lie.

Liz.

His blue eyes trailed from the 'Warden' to the young mage, who had just transformed from her crow form beside Maxwell. She spoke in rushed sentences. She, too, had darkness. But …

Maybe he was just soft.

They came to a bend in the road, the wildlife suspiciously quiet. Liz spoke in a low tone to the group and Cole had to get closer to even hear. "They're up there, waiting."

Bandits.

A common theme, it seemed. People would rob one another when they couldn't make a decent living of their own. Taking from others, instead. Cole felt his eyes narrow when they jumped out of the treeline, trying to ambush the group.

But it wouldn't work. Everyone already knew.

The knowledge of their presence left the Inquisition at an advantage. The large group, not nearly an army, took on the lowlifes with ease. Cole remained close to his Light, making sure she wasn't exposed from the back or hurt.

Step. Dash. Step step. His daggers slid across soft flesh and he flicked his wrist, sending the blood flying. The rogue purposely cut them in such a way that they died slower. Painfully. He could hear what they did, rolling off of them like a sickness. Some of them had killed families. Hurt women. Children. Disgusting.

Even so, the feeling he got when they slowly choked on their own blood on the ground. It was so utterly satisfying that he couldn't keep his eyes off of his kill one moment. Then the next, a shriek. Liz's voice. He whipped around, seeing his Light getting knocked back by a rather large warrior with a tower shield.

The rogue felt sheer, white hot rage. His vision flickered red for the barest of moments, then he was atop the warrior. Tearing him down. Stab. Stab. Rip. Repeatedly.

"….ole." A voice was ringing behind him as he continued to stab the man. Mauling his already dead corpse. "Cole."

Cole paused, standing up in an almost mechanical motion. His head turned, Liz stood there with her hand on his arm. Stopping him.

"He's dead." She stated, voice wobbling. The young man whipped around and grabbed her chin, almost possessively. A confused expression flitted across her face as he turned her head side to side, inspecting for damage. Her wounds were mostly superficial, most of which she could heal herself.

No one was allowed to hurt his Little Light. No one. _Not when he was around._

Her warm fingertips grazed the side of his face, wiping away blood that had spattered across his pale cheek. His gaze locked with hers, blue on brown. And again, it was like something was pulling him in. Grounding him as her hand lingered on his cheek.

She kept staring at him, like she was trying to say something. But nothing came out.

But he heard.

' _Please come back to me.'_

He was about to tear himself away from the young woman when Maxwell appeared beside the two, "Are you guys okay?" He stared at Cole, eye looking him up and down. Noting all of the blood and his distinct lack of hat. "Cole? I haven't seen you since Redcliffe. Are you doing okay? How do you feel?"

"He's okay." Liz answered for him, "He's just been a little out of sorts."

"…. if you say so." Maxwell sounded unsure, holding his shield as he shifted uncomfortably.

"Cole. We have been looking for you for weeks, now." Solas was the next person to appear beside the Inquisitor. He took in Cole's appearance, noting how the entire front of his leather coat was covered in red. "Is-is all of that blood?"

The elf's eyes flicked down to the man he'd mauled, face nothing but a mound of flesh and bone. Cole spoke, this time. "Yes. He tried to hurt my Light."

"Your..." Solas' voice tapered off as he turned to look at Liz, who appeared to have gone pale. She stared up at Cole, hissing at him to stay quiet. "Is there something we should know, Erin?"

The young mage turned to look at her elder and shook her head furiously, "Absolutely not. No. What do you mean?"

"Ever since he killed the templar in Redcliffe, he hasn't been right. Cole, what do you make of this? Have you forgotten your purpose?"

"The man in the robes once said, _'Fear not the darkness but welcome its embrace.'_ " He pulled the saying from Liz, who looked at him. Recognition flashed in her eyes for a moment, "I found my purpose, have you?"

"He…. He isn't the same." The Seeker's voice cut through the small group and he turned to her, unaware of how his eyes were glowing from underneath his mop of hair.

"Was it that obvious?" Cole tilted his head, unable to keep the mocking tone from surfacing.

"Seeker."

She didn't heed Solas' warning as she unsheathed her sword and pointed it menacingly at the young man. The rogue simply smirked at the frustrated woman, finding it amusing how riled up she got. It was too easy.

"I thought we had a budding friendship, _Cass_." Cole continued, remembering how she began to treat Compassion. But now that he wasn't Compassion, suddenly things have changed?

"I am no friend to a _demon_!" She hissed, gripping her sword tighter. Cole felt his eyes narrow at the comment. Her too, then. She was no different than Rhys, from the sounds of it. Liz, thus far, was the only one that remained at his side since his change. Even Solas had turned on him. Not that he remembered. What of the others? What was stopping them?

They were all the same.

"Are you going to kill me? In front of Liz?" He decided to make a jab, feeling spiteful. "I thought you, of all people, would know the pain of seeing a loved ones head-"

Liz snatched his arm and gave him a look. Cole simply stared back, oblivious to the way Cassandra's expression crumpled. The duo completely missed it, because when they looked back ... It was gone. Replaced by anger. Complete and unbridled fury.

"You dare!" Her voice cracked, obviously hiding the pain underneath. He'd struck a soft spot.

"Cass!" Maxwell tried to call, but his statement went unheard as the Seeker stomped forward.

Liz stepped in front of Cole, allowing electricity to wrap up her arms and surround the two protectively. It crackled much like the atmosphere between the three, hissing and spitting as it illuminated the area in a blue glow.

"You will not harm him." Her voice sounded ominous. He could feel the disapproval at his actions rolling off of her, yet she still protected him. She would never let anyone hurt him, if she had any say in it.

"Get out of the way! The boy is not the same, he is-"

"My friend and I will not allow harm to befall him. So long as I am-"

Cassandra made a disgusted noise and lowered her weapon, but didn't sheathe it. "I thought you, of all people, would understand the danger he poses."

"He hasn't hurt anyone." She lied.

"Wouldn't _you_ know?" Came Cole's smug sounding remark from behind her.

The little mage whipped around and snapped at him, "And _you're_ not helping. You don't just go around saying those kinds of things!"

The rogue gritted his teeth and looked away from her angry expression, feeling like a scolded puppy. Something began twisting in his chest. Didn't she see it, too? How differently they treated him? He had been remaining unseen for that very reason. Because deep down he knew that they wouldn't want anything to do with him once they knew.

With a roll of his eyes, he turned and stalked away. He willed himself out of sight, leaving a very angry Seeker and a disappointed Inquisitor.

"Erin, what's going on with him? If there is something you aren't telling me, you need to tell me now. Is he a threat to anyone?" The Inquisitor asked as the rogue settled himself into the tree line fifteen feet away. He watched the young woman for a moment as she shifted uncomfortably.

"I honestly… don't know. I'm … check … " Liz's voice sounded defeated, for the most part as it faded away and he made his way through the forest.

Even before, when Compassion had first joined the Inquisition, he had been treated with such disdain. The only thing he wanted was to help. He didn't really expect anything different, if he were to be honest. Cole had low expectations for humanity, especially since he remembered everything.

Even Real Cole had it bad and he remembered it all, as if it'd been his own memories. As if it'd happened yesterday. A mother, murdered by her love. Even his little sister was gone. Gone gone. Scared and suffering and suffocating. Oh, Maker it hurt.

Cole stumbled and put his hand against a tree, shaken. Remembering how cold her little body had been against his. He had been scared. He was just scared. So _so_ scared. He didn't mean to—he cried out, feeling pain ripping at the center of his chest.

The young man barely registered the footsteps that followed him, crunching in the grass. "Cole? Are you okay?"

Her voice was quiet, almost as if his ears were full of cotton. The sound that came out of the young man's mouth was so full of anguish, he almost couldn't keep himself upright. His stomach was in knots—everything was closing in.

He'd only been scared. He wanted to protect her, too. Father furious, frantic and full of hate. _'My son is a mage. Monster._ _ **Monster**_ _.'_

"She died she died." His voice shook, quick and out of breath. Cole clutched his chest, curling in on himself. It was like he was back there, still in the cupboard with her. Holding onto her. The feeling he got when he realized. He realized-

"Who died? Cole-"

"She died. I—Cole—I? I did it? I killed Bunny, she—" She died in his arms, "—Shaking hands covering a small mouth. _'Shhh shhh be quiet, he will hear us.'_ I didn't-" His voice got lower, deeper, akin to a growl. " _ **-I didn't m-mean to-**_ "

"Hey, look …. can't …." Liz's voice was a faraway sound, unable to hear her. Unable to see. Everything was blurry. Why was everything blurry? Why did it feel like he couldn't breathe? He couldn't see. He couldn't think. He couldn't—he pulled his hands away from his chest and stared at them in horror. Cole didn't see _his_ hands, no. They were elongated into claws. Blackness, like ink, spider-webbing up into the sleeve of his leather coat.

It felt like he was being consumed.

He didn't know how right he was. He couldn't see how the white in his eyes blackened, how his blue eyes glowed or how his teeth began to sharpen. Skin pale, dead. Dying. He was truly becoming-

"COLE!" A scream as his gaze suddenly darkened. A snarl, not his own. It was like he was thrown in the back seat of his body and he was watching himself grab the young mage's body. His hands—claws—dug into her upper arms, drawing blood. Then, a plea, "Please, don't do this. Don't do this to me. I don't want to have to do this."

Liz was, even then, trying to pull him out of it. Hoping. Praying. Believing. Trying to stop everything from spiraling. Down down. He was falling. He was hurting her. Maker, he was hurting her. Cole fought against it, trying to pull himself back. If even just a little. All he could do was move his mouth, speak. An almost choked sound.

"K-Kill me. Liz." He sputtered, voice raw with emotion. _'Kill me before I kill you.'_

He plead and, for the first time, prayed to the Maker. Andraste. Anyone. Please stop! Make it stop! He didn't want to hurt his only friend!

The others left. The others didn't like what they saw. Didn't understand. Didn't see.

Not like her.

Then, her skin, it was so warm. Hands on his cheeks, mouth moving as if to talk to him but he could hear nothing. The warmth curled over him. No, it wasn't—she was reaching out to him. Somehow. Something from within, calling and crying – clawing. Desperate. A light at the end of the tunnel. No, like a thread. Cole reached out to it and took it.

It was like everything sharpened and thoughts, not his own, invaded his mind. Encouragement, faith, hope. Everything relayed but he was unable to put it into words. But most of all, it was fear. The fear of losing him, which doubled and resonated within his own fear of losing her. Killing her.

And then he was there. Like an anchor holding him during a storm. The water lapping at his sides, yet he remained still. Stagnant. Cole marveled at it, watching as everything around him slowly muted in response. Calm.

It was so quiet. Everything was quiet. The wildlife was silent, almost eerily so. He could hear the gentle rustle of the trees and feel the wind blowing through his hair. It was like looking through a window on a sunny day after a storm passed through. He looked down at his claws—no—hands. He had hands! His hands!

"Just listen. Listen to my voice. Focus on your breathing and close your eyes, Cole. Breathe." She spoke slowly. Cole could feel Liz's fingers as they wiped the wetness away from his face. Why were his cheeks wet? He peered up at her and saw that she, too, had the same problem. Tears. Those were tears. He was crying? "Everything is going to be alright. Just focus. Try and focus."

He shuddered, feeling his chest quake. Shaking, the young rogue pulled her closer and put his forehead against hers. He let out a deep exhale as he shut his eyes, relishing in the quiet. It had been so loud. So bright.

The two of them stood there for what felt like minutes, just breathing. The young man felt a small smile slipping onto his face, "Thank you, I..."

His eyes snapped open when he felt a soft press on his bottom lip. Liz pulled away and stared up at him with uncharacteristically innocent eyes, face flushed red. It'd felt like a zap that caused his heart to race. She'd just … she'd just kissed him!

"Sorry." She stuttered, tanned face reddening even more. "I should have asked first, I just… I don't know I. Sorry."

The rogue leaned down, intent on reciprocating. In her surprise, she flinched and their teeth clacked together.

"Ow!" Liz squeaked as Cole let out a grunt. The duo stood there, nose to nose, for an almost awkward amount of time before the young mage let out a quiet chuckle. Cole laughed too, feeling a light airy feeling in his chest at the situation.

"It is there. Hesitant and happy—I-" The rogue paused, putting his hand on his chest, "I wish everyday was like this."

"It can be." She stared up at him, unwavering, "If you let me help, too."

"I...I want..." He stuttered. What did he want? He wanted her to be happy. He wanted friends. He wanted to be like her. But… "But I've already-"

"No, I told you that I would always be there for you. We can do this. Together."

Being like this felt so good. So _right_. The rogue wished nothing more than to be like her. Human, happy. But did he really deserve it? What they had? What _did_ they have? What was it? It frightened him. Cole backed away, eyes wild. It shouldn't happen. No. No no no. Can't. It can't.

He pictured her before him. Trusting, tempered, twined in his embrace. But she was bleeding, dagger in her heart. Just like _them_ , he would want to take her pain away. But no, this wasn't that. Was it? He wanted her, all of her. He wanted her to see him and only him. For her to be _his_.

Cole wanted to _possess_ all that was her. He-

"No!" His voice cracked, a hand flying up to cover his mouth. Now Liz appeared concerned as she stepped forward, hand held high as if to calm a skittish animal.

"Cole, what's- what is wrong? You're—" So trusting, but she shouldn't. Shouldn't. Not him. Not like this. He trusted her, but he did not trust himself. He was too afraid. What if it happened again? What if he truly turned into Despair. Completely and fully? What if he ended up killing her? Possessing her?

What scared him the most was that she would allow it to happen.

His hand flew forward, palm merely inches from her face. He was able to see her brown eyes narrow and flick up to his, panicked. _"Forget."_

Everything.

The pain erupted, exploded in her chest. Within seconds, a world shifted – shattered. Then nothing. Blank. The small mage blinked a few times, as if confused. She then turned and walked away as if she didn't see him. And she didn't. Couldn't.

And oh, like a mirror, Cole felt it too. But it didn't go away. It never would.

 _He_ would remember.

* * *

Cole felt unbelievably lost then, as he watched his friend walk away at a languid pace. He stood there for minutes, maybe hours, looking at the place in the thicket that she had left in. Disappearing into the foliage. She didn't even look back.

It was beginning to get dark by the time the young rogue even attempted to make his way back. His feet were hurting, for whatever reason. His joints ached, his head ached. Why did everything hurt so much?

He wondered this to himself as he ambled back into the camp. Wondering many things, as a matter of fact. Wondering also, why everything was still so eerily quiet. He could begin to hear the birds tweeting in the trees and the trickling of water as he passed a small stream. But it all seemed… different. It was quiet, yet not. Everything was odd, as if something had shifted.

It left him feeling off balance, in a way.

So he stepped into camp, unaware that everyone could see him. Unaware that a certain hobo mage made his way out of the thicket behind him.

* * *

 **Liz**

Liz awoke the next day, eyes burning and head pounding as she sat up in her tent. Jade was snoring loudly beside her, legs somehow draped over Liz's lower half. How the dwarf had inched her way onto her side of the tent was beyond her.

The young woman huffed and pushed her legs off of her own, "Jade, time to get up."

"Hurrghbble?" She grumbled and snorted in response, turning over and burying her face into her bedroll. Liz rolled her eyes and climbed over her stocky figure and tumbled out of the front of the tent. The sun was rising in the distance and she heard the distinct sound of a spoon hitting a pot.

"Mornin', Sunny. Sleep well?" Varric asked as she stood up and brushed off her pants.

"Yes. I didn't know dwarves liked human pillows." She snarked, slowly making her way around the camp and kicking people awake. Varric simply snorted at her comment. Liz paused, seeing a scout sleeping on a tree next to the camp. He was still in his leather armor as he lay at an awkward angle. She winced. He was definitely going to have a crick in his neck. "Hey, you."

She addressed him and poked the blonde man. He snorted and attempted to sit up, surprised. The man made something akin to a squeak as he fell off the branch and onto the ground five feet below.

' _ **Thud!'**_

"Ow!" He cried, leaning on his side and holding his butt. "That hurt."

"Yes, well… kind of happens when you fall asleep on a tree branch." Liz put her hands on her hips, eying him warily. Why did he seem familiar? Why did she feel like she should know his name? "You sleep in the oddest of places, scout."

"I was sleeping?"

"Yes. If you were designated to be on watch, you didn't do a very good job at it." She turned around stiffly and faced the rest of the group as they began packing up their supplies sluggishly. "Max, are you awake?"

The only thing the young mage got was a long drawn out groan from his tent. Liz's eye twitched and she walked over to the thing and grabbed his foot and began dragging him out. It was really difficult, since she wasn't at all physically strong. But it wasn't impossible.

The eldest Trevelyan grabbed a tent pole and groaned again, dragging his tent with him. It caved in and toppled over his prone body.

"Wake. Up." Liz huffed, continuing to drag him.

"I'm up, I'm up." He called from the ruined mass of leathers. "Jeez, you're worse than mother."

"The girl's right, Boss. We're wasting daylight at this point. Chargers!" The Iron Bull called, getting varying responses between tired groans to enthusiastic cheers.

"Understood, Ser!" Kyle called from his tent, already stumbling out in just his breeches and a helmet.

When Liz looked back toward the awkward young man that had fallen asleep on the tree branch, he was staring passed her with a despondent look on his features. Mind elsewhere.

There was something. It felt far away, barely touching. Drifting by, kind of what the Fade felt like when she pulled at it. When she drew from it for magic, but not. It buzzed through the air, though she knew not where it originated from. Sorrow, not her own.

Why?

"Ya feelin' alright there, Kid?" Varric walked up to the young man slowly, cautiously. "I thought you didn't need to sleep."

Liz scrunched her eyebrows, confusion gripping her. Though she stayed silent. Watching. Waiting.

"N-No. I-I... Why does it hurt, Varric?" He asked, looking down at the dwarf. The rogue picked at the frayed ends of his fingerless gloves.

"Why does what hurt?"

"I-It hurts. Everything hurts." He tried to grasp for the right words, blue eyes wide with worry.

With that, Liz shrugged and walked away to tend to other things. First it was packing things onto Rin. Then it was helping the others gather their gear and put it away. The young woman paused and squinted at her upper arms, feeling them ache from the exertion.

They were covered in bandages and she recalled treating herself the night before. She could have sworn she was attacked by a wild cat but … couldn't actually remember the cat attacking her.

* * *

 _A white faceless shadow was standing on the edge of the bridge. Raining, it was raining. Why was it raining? It was dark, the only illumination coming from the flickering streetlamp above him. Him? It? The shadow turned and looked at Liz._

 _It had no eyes, but she could feel it looking at her. Feel it scrutinizing her. Seeing her. Hearing her._

 _She tilted her head slightly, feeling her hair plastered to the side of her face. The young woman should feel cold, she knew. Like being pulled by an invisible rope, she stepped forth. It brought her here. Why here?_

 _Why did this seem so familiar? So … so. She could not grasp it. Like water seeping through her fingers, disappearing. Falling. Falling. Gone._

'Where am I, again?'

" _Little light." The voice was drowned out by the falling of the rain. Pitter patter. The low drone an almost deafening sound._

" _Have you ever felt deja vu?" Liz asked offhandedly, mind hazy. The feeling of having done something before, seen something before - "I've been here before—memories. Growing, grasping … gone. Gonegone. Something's missing. Where- where am I? Why can't I-"_

 _Her ears started ringing, head throbbing. It hurt it hurt. Why did it-_

" _Little light, little light. Dim, dull, dying. Fading away." Was it's only answer, lifting a hand and pointing at her chest. She looked down and saw. She saw. "Don't die out just yet."_

 _She saw her light, burning in her chest. Flickering like a dying candle._

" _Why does it-" The shadow began fading. It's form translucent. Instinctively, the woman reached out to grab it. "Don't leave! Not again, no! Don't leave me!"_

 _Liz knew not the meaning behind her own words. They just slipped out. Her hand passed through and like smoke, the shadow scattered._

 _He glanced back toward her, right before he dissipated. He was gone. She choked back a cry, chest suddenly heavy. Hurt._

 _Before he left, she felt him smile._

* * *

 ** _x0x0_**

Trust me when I say this drama and heartache actually has a purpose. Like. Character development. Especially for our dearest Cole. I want to develop him and show him growing into his humanity. It will be fun!


	20. Little Light

"Little Light"

The dreams plagued her more often than not the closer they got to the Western Approach. Days. Weeks. Pretty soon, a month. Those last few days were the worst, for the little mage. She was lucky if she got a decent amount of sleep, as she was often awoken throughout the nights. Heavy breathing and cold sweats. It was hard.

Sometimes she didn't even remember what she had been dreaming about.

Other times, it was like inky blackness that stuck to her insides. Trying to infect her, reminding her of all the horrible things she'd done in this world. How many times she'd fucked up. Liz knew. She always knew. Every single day she knew. Remembered. She would never forget.

But it was the night before they were supposed to march onto the fortress that stuck out to her the most.

 _Liz was running. In this dream, she was Erin Trevelyan. Just like she was in the waking world. Her little legs were trying to scramble across the expanse of the desert, dark and drowning. She could feel it, weighing down on her shoulders. Like it was right there. She could hear it, chuckling in her ear. As if it was always at her back._

 _But she could never see it._

 _The young mage, even back on Earth, had never seen this entity. Always following in her steps and haunting her. Ever since she was a child. Irritation reared its ugly head and she stopped. The young woman, despite being in Erin's form, was standing in her childhood home. A single story house that her mother had rented from the Tribe on the Reservation._

 _It was dirty, walls filled with filth and grime. The tiled floors were supposed to be white, but the dirt stained them grey. Papers and beer cans littered the ground as she stomped her foot and whipped around. It was dark, a bright green glow piercing into the house in place of the sun._

" _What are you!?" Liz demanded, "What do you want?"_

 _Nothing. It was eerily quiet. Not a chuckle. Not even a whisper._

" _What the fuck do you want from me?! If you want to kill me, JUST FUCKING KILL ME." She yelled impudently, finally fed up with running from it. "Show yourself you stupid piece of—_ ergk _!"_

 _Her small body was grabbed and lifted off of the ground by her throat, all air expelled from her lungs. A deep throaty chuckle resounded within the house, making it shake and rumble. It felt like an earthquake was outside, like something was huge. Absolutely_ massive _._

' _ **Clack clack crunch'**_ _Went the rocks outside, all she could see was its legs. But, that's not what she was focused on. It was the tall figure that held her that had her attention._

" _ **If I take this form, will you fear me?"**_ _It shook her and she struggled to breathe, feeling herself get dizzy. Despite knowing it was a dream. That she was in the Fade. It all felt so real. The thing slammed her small body against the dirty wall. It was a white featureless shadow. A shadow that was familiar, just like her friend when she was younger._ _ **"Where have you gone, my**_ **Little Light?** _ **"**_

 _He spat the endearment like it was venom. It sounded wrong. All wrong. Wrong wrong. He wasn't him. He wasn't her spirit friend from Earth. He wasn't- Couldn't be!_

" _I'm not afraid of you!" She screamed at it, clawing at it's arms as it starts to choke her. It's a dream. Dream, she's dreaming. She didn't have to breathe. So she doesn't. Liz glared at the thing, ignoring the settling dread in her stomach that was threatening to take over. Send her into a frenzy. She wouldn't let it. She wouldn't!_

" _ **Oh, but quite the contrary. I can see it, twisting in your g**_ _ **ut."**_ _Its voice rumbled in front of her, but also all around her. Outside of the house, inside of her head. It was everywhere._ _ **"Tel**_ _ **l me, Little Light. What would happen to the friendships you found, forged on a lie? What would they do if they knew? You are a fake. A fraud. A liar. How would they feel, knowing what you are?"**_

 _Her eyes widened. The formless shadow leaned forward, face so close to hers._

" _ **Or, rather, what you**_ **aren't** _ **."**_ _He whispered with glee and she could feel her heart freeze in place. She screamed and he started to laugh. He took her deepest fear and threw it in her face. Her friend's faces popped into view, expressions morphed into disgust, fear, disdain. The most prominent of all? Betrayal. It cooed,_ _ **"Let me help you, Elizabeth. They can't hurt you if you hurt them first. Remember what your parents did? Remember how everyone turned their backs on you? They will too, you know. Everyone here. All of them."**_

 _The little mage began to flail and kick, getting more frantic._

" _ **I can let you see Elise again."**_ _Liz froze at that statement and the demon latched onto it, becoming more eager._ _ **"Yes, that's right. I can make it happen. I know where she is. Let me-"**_

 _It's voice didn't even sound like it was coming from in front of her anymore, almost like it was connecting with her very thoughts. It sounded like her. Was it her? Was she it? Hot, searing pain erupted in her chest. She could feel it pushing and prodding. Trying to get in. Her scream turned into a wail of agony as it echoed throughout the empty room, resounding off of the walls._

" _No!"_

 _Liz could barely hear a faint call, as if behind glass. Her eyes and mouth were agape as she tried to repel the feeling of it trying to invade her thoughts, her mind, her very soul. No no no!_

" _Liz! You have to wake up!" The voice resounded, but she continued to scream. Her arms flailed but failed to grasp onto her tormentor. It hissed and looked up, slowly becoming transparent. It's form flickered like a TV with bad reception._

" _ **Compassion."**_ _It spoke, the disgust evident in it's tone. The pain in her chest lessened and it's voice returned to normal. It didn't sound like her anymore and her screaming paused as she began to cough and choke. Wake up wake up, she just wanted to—_

" _Don't listen_ to him!" Someone's voice was right there as she flew into a seated position. Her body felt cold, but she was sweating and shaking.

 _Wake up?_

Blue eyes and a mop of blonde hair. _Safe_.

"W-W-Who are you?" Her voice sounded hoarse, possibly from screaming. She almost missed the brief flash of pain in his eyes.

He continued, trying to offer reassurance. "He can't hurt you. He won't."

Liz's shaking hands came up and gripped the front of his shirt. Her voice was small, a stinging sense of déjà vu niggled in the back of her mind. "H-How do you know?"

"I won't let him." The familiarity of the words caused the tears to fall and he wrapped his arms around her awkwardly. Oh, right. She'd heard those words before, but he was gone now. He left. "I'm sorry."

"W-Why are you sorry?" He had no reason to be. Right? Liz blinked back the last of the tears, voice finally returning to normal.

"I … I don't know."

"Erin, are you okay?" Her tent flap flew open, revealing her brother. She blinked away her tears and nodded. The man looked at the rogue next to her with surprise before a wary expression made its way onto his face, "Cole? What are you doing in here?"

"She was scared and screaming so I came. I-I wanted to help." The rogue, Cole she learned, bowed his head and peeked up at him through his mop of scraggly hair. "I feels like too much, pressing down – a weight on her shoulders that no one can see." He then turned to Liz, who was staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "You don't want him there and he doesn't like it."

"How do you even know these things?"

"Erin..." Max spoke hesitantly from the front of her tent. She turned to him and tilted her head in question, "Do you… do you know who this is?"

The young mage squinted at him. Was this a trick question? He'd just _said_ his name. "Yes. Cole… I think. You said that was his name, anyway."

She expected him to snort and make a jab at her or maybe make her the butt of some stupid joke. But she didn't expect the alarm that flew across his features. He looked to Cole, lone eye boring a hole straight through him. The young rogue had his head lowered guiltily. Then, Maxwell's voice was low and dangerous. "Cole… can I talk to you for a second? _Get out here._ "

He, for the most part, sounded every bit like an angry brother. The angry brother that she sometimes got the butt end of.

The demon's words from her dreams filtered through her mind, causing a guilty frown to appear on her face. Liz turned and began changing her clothing and putting on her armor. Which only consisted of a leather chestpiece. But it was better than nothing. A lot of the times she had to move her hands a certain way to cast spells, so she couldn't have much to restrict her movements.

The young woman sighed as she clipped her wolf pelts on and popped out of the tent into the night air. It was still early in the morning, which was when they planned on storming the fortress. Just before dawn.

She sighed, seeing her breath appear in front of her face. The desert was colder when the sun was down, the dust kicked up as the wind whipped through her short locks. Her gaze landed on a small grouping of Maxwell's companions.

Solas, Varric and Cole stood with him. They were speaking in swift and hushed tones. The otherworlder rose a brow and began to approach, not even bothering to try and be stealthy. Her feet crunched against the dry dirt.

"It would be against her wishes if-" Varric paused and turned, noticing the little mage as she approached. The rest of them went silent, as well.

"We will speak of this later." Was Maxwell's clipped reply as she got within hearing distance. He turned on his heel and stomped away. Varric had his hand on the lanky rogue's shoulder, looking every bit as sympathetic as he probably felt.

"Is everything okay?"

"All is well, Erin. Are your arms feeling better today?" Solas was the one to speak up, hands behind his back as he approached. The young woman looked at them and pressed on them with the tips of her fingers, still feeling the tenderness. "May I?"

"Sure, I guess. I mean, I mended most of the breakage but it's still a bit bruised." Liz explained, unclipping her wolf pelt and allowing access to her shoulders. The apostate unraveled the bandages and she winced as he pulled one away on a particularly sensitive part. "C-Can you be a little gentler, please?"

"Apologies." He mumbled, revealing her right shoulder. His fingertips moved just above her skin, hand glowing an odd blue. She could feel his mana caress her wounds, the icy feeling numbing some of the burning. "Do you remember how you got these?"

"I believe I was attacked by a wild cat." Liz told him, but it sounded more like a question. Not even she was completely sure. But she didn't want to worry her friend, so she kept it at that. He simply nodded and she didn't miss how he turned to look at the dwarf and his lanky rogue friend. Both of whom were looking at her with somber looks. "Isn't it weird? I think I went out to hunt, but I didn't bring my bow. Perhaps my lack of sleep has been getting to me more than I thought."

"Perhaps." Solas agreed, though there was something in his tone that had her on edge. A hint of anger, maybe a little bit of worry.

Varric shook his head and grabbed Cole, taking him away from the two. Solas continued to treat her wounds and she didn't even have to rewrap herself. After he was done, not only did the pain mostly reside but the bruising was almost completely gone.

The young woman blinked, surprised to feel water trailing down her cheeks as the apostate backed away to look at his work. The bald elf went from stoic to wide eyed and concerned, "Erin, did I cause you any pain? It was not my intent." When she stared at him oddly, he elaborated, "You're crying."

"I—what?" Liz pressed her fingers against her cheeks, feeling the wetness. She was, indeed, crying. She could feel the twisting sorrow in her chest, but couldn't explain why it was there. "Yeah, I'm okay. I don't… I don't even know why I'm crying."

But the tears wouldn't stop. They kept coming and coming, like an endless waterfall. Without saying anything, she turned and retreated away from camp to the mounts where she could be alone. What was going on with her? Why was her dreams getting worse? Why was she feeling things that she shouldn't be?

Liz had no reason to be sad. None at all.

Maybe it was because of what the demon said. About Elise. Yeah. That was probably it. With that, she began to saddle up Rin and get her ready for the trip to the fortress with the army. They were on the outskirts of the rather massive camp. Supply carts and tents were lined up in a neat row. Soldiers were gearing themselves up and people milled about as Commander Cullen gave orders to his men. Some people were tending to the horses and readying them up.

That's when Maxwell approached her, just as everyone was getting mounted up and ready to march.

"Erin, when we get to Adamant you're going to stay behind and help Commander Cullen organize the troops. You will be there as their battle medic."

"What about you guys?"

"We should be fine."

"You're joking, right? You can't just sideline me because you want to keep me safe in a little bubble, Max. I'm a grown ass woman." The young woman stated in a clipped tone. She hefted herself atop Rin, who was surprisingly well behaved that day. "Besides, Serana has been helping me train the apprentices. If they stayed behind with Stitches, they should be fine. You? You guys need someone. Serana and I have the training."

And they did. Serana and Liz were two of the most skilled mage healers the Inquisition had at the current moment. Add on to the fact that they were both decently trained in offensive magics, it made them a great asset on the battlefield. As were most 'battle medics'.

The young man pinched his nose, almost the same way Liz did when she was irritated. She noticed how the lines on his face seemed to have gotten more prominent since becoming the Herald.

"There's no way I can talk you out of this, is there?" He sounded resigned, shoulder slumping.

"Absolutely not." Her voice softened, but she wouldn't apologize for this. Never this.

* * *

They marched upon the fortress, battle cries and metal singing in the air. Arrows flew toward the high walls of Adamant, trebuchets lobbing ammo at the aged stone. Towers shot into the sky, flags flapping in the wind. Ladders were thrown up, sending some of the troops atop to try and infiltrate. The battering ram sent the door shaking and scattering on the floor inside.

Liz heard yelling, causing her head to shoot skyward. A man dropped onto the ground next to her with a loud crunch and crumple of metal. He'd fallen off of one of the ladders and nearly landed on her. The young mage clenched Athras' staff until her knuckles were white, forcing herself to follow Maxwell and his group into the fortress.

She ignored the screaming of the men outside and the sound of rubble falling onto the soldiers. She ignored the screeches of demons in the distance and how people were probably getting shredded by said demons. She ignored the carnage, in favor of the here and now. Right then and there. She couldn't afford to dwell.

At least not then. Later.

Later.

Men and women alike stormed the fortress, swords held high. Maxwell and Commander Cullen were talking. The group were on the ramparts, along with other Inquisition soldiers and scouts. Demons and Wardens alike battled against the wave. Screeching and shredding. Terror demons lashed out, shredding armor like aluminum. Despair demons floated, freezing people in place and impaling them with icicles. Rage demons, too. Giant flaming blobs of red, slithering across the stone and leaving trails of soot as they spit lava at their enemies.

Things weren't looking good.

Sure, the Inquisition was winning the battle. But not without significant loss. Smoke billowed across, kicking into the air as the winds picked up. The stench of blood and charred death was most prominent as she made her way through with her friends. The little mage threw up barriers and shot lightning whenever she could, but it never seemed like enough.

It was at this moment that Liz realized how much stronger Serana had gotten. The power she held, all this time.

"Solas!" Lavellan screamed, just as he tried to block a blow from a rage demon. Liz whipped her gaze in their direction, but she was too far away to assist. Stuck between concentrating on barriers or jumping to help her friend—what was she to do? The searing claws had ripped right through Solas' staff and into the front of his chest. The apostate was thrown on the ground in front of Serana, who had been shielded by him. The little elf fell to her knees, hands on his chest to stop the bleeding. Most of which had been seared shut by the blow. He looked like an absolute wreck. "Solas, no. Nonono. I can help, I-I can. _Hope, please_."

The rage demon roared, drowning out Liz's plea for Serana to run. Run! It slithered in their direction and leaving an ashen trail in its wake. Soldiers were screaming in pain and dropping like flies. Some were in the midst of bleeding out as they lay, peering at the sky with their last glimpse in the living world.

"Vhenan, no." But his words fell on deaf ears.

Liz was about to Fade step in their direction, when the elven woman let out a shriek. Her eyes turned completely white, an ethereal glow erupting from her skin and enveloping everyone in the area. The rage demon howled and slowly dissipated, as it was closest to her. The demons nearby let out shrill cries, as if hurt by the blast.

But their allies were miraculously untouched.

The otherworlder watched in wonder as her friend's silvery hair billowed, light pulsating from her as if she were a beacon. It spread across the expanse of their side of the field. Some of the men that were on death's door sat up, confused. Their wounds miraculously closed and bodies invigorated.

Liz felt the wounds on her arms and any fatigue she felt disappear, as if it'd never been there. She even heard her brother yell in alarm, "I can see!"

The demons on the ramparts were gone, the remaining Wardens staring at the Inquisitor for guidance. As he'd told them to help against the demon threat. Some could see reason, it seemed.

It was in that moment of pause, that a fight broke out.

"She's an abomination!" Cassandra yelled, stomping toward Serana who had stopped glowing and appeared unnaturally pale. She looked sick from overexertion, eyes sunken in. Solas sat up and grabbed her shoulders in time before she fell. The elf clutched her close, resting his chin on the crown of her head.

Liz approached, staff still brandished. "Cassandra, stop."

"What happened?" Maxwell asked, jogging in their direction. His blind eye was open and able to see, though his scars remained. Liz blinked, confused.

"I've seen this before, Seeker. Remember Anders?" Varric stood beside the semi conscious Serana as she was held by her beloved. Hawke approached, holding his staff like a sword. He stood on her other side and appeared stony faced and ready to protect the young elf. The statement was obviously supposed to have placated the Seeker somehow, but it only seemed to put her on edge even more.

"How long have you known, Varric? Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?" The Seeker gave pause and looked down at her like she was a ticking time bomb. And maybe she was. Liz felt uneasy. Who was Anders? An abomination? She had a demon inside of her? What was going on?

"Look, just listen-" Varric started, but the warrior cut him off.

"You cannot be serious right now!"

"Now is not the time, Cassandra." Solas snapped, "At this very moment, the Wardens are completing a blood ritual to create a demon army. I believe that to be a more pressing matter."

"Alright, look. Let us add this to the number of things we need to talk about after all of this is out of the way." Maxwell spoke up, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Whatever it was that she did, I can see out of my blind eye now. Bull, did it do anything for you?"

"I ripped that thing out years ago. I doubt any demon-y shit could do anything." The Ben-Hassrath lifted his eyepatch and opened his eye, showing him an empty socket.

"Oh… sorry."

"No harm done, Boss." The Iron Bull chuckled and they grouped up, getting ready to continue.

It didn't go unnoticed by Liz how her brother seemed to tense up, his hand gripping the pommel of his sword. Boots crunched near her and she turned, seeing the odd blonde rogue from before. Only now he had a ridiculously large hat on.

"Every night – flicks, flashes, small bursts and he's still there. Yet not." Cole tilted his head, hat hiding most of his features. " _'My hidden companion.'_ "

The young woman rose a brow and held up her hand at Maxwell, "Hey hey, he's just … I don't know what he's saying but he just came over to talk. It's okay, Max."

The eldest Trevelyan gave the rogue a glare before turning and leading the group further into the fortress. Liz turned to Cole and squinted at him. She couldn't see his face as he looked away.

"Scout?" She questioned, wondering what he wanted. What he meant.

"My name is not Scout, it is Cole." He almost appeared amused at her comment and Liz's mouth twitched into a frown. Was he being sarcastic? He turned to her and gave her what she would interpret as a sad smile, "Don't worry. I've got your back. Friends help friends."

"….Right."

* * *

Something just didn't feel right about this fortress. Everything inside of her was screaming at her to run. The dark ominous feeling she often got in her dreams almost seemed to resonate within the walls. Laughing. Taunting her.

Liz's eyes narrowed, remembering the dream she had just nights before.

"Stop them, we must complete the ritual!" A rather pompous looking man called, making Liz scrunch her nose. The Wardens stood around a raised platform, remnants of the Fade leaking through and causing something in the young mage's stomach to stir. The feeling she got from her dreams becoming more prominent the closer to the green glow she got. Everyone turned to Maxwell's group.

The eldest Trevelyan stalked forth with purpose, eyes set on the man atop giving commands. He addressed the Warden Commander, Clarel. Trying to convince the woman that it was the wrong thing to do. That what she was doing wasn't the answer. It was a lie.

But the pompous man, Erimond, refuted his claims. Trying to spin it as if he was trying to stop the Blight itself. Impossible. Liz wanted to scoff. She was new to this world, but even she knew how ridiculous that sounded. How could these people even believe such a thing?

Even so. The fact that the ritual required blood sacrifices. Disgusting. The more he talked, the more she wanted to drive a blade through his throat. Something inside of her was simmering with hate.

"And this sacrifice? You would allow them to bind your mages to Corypheus?!" Liz snapped, voice louder than ever. "Is this the kind of thing the Wardens resort to?"

Clarel looked down at the young woman, who stepped forward and stood next to her brother. She appeared shocked, almost unbelieving of the woman's comment. "Corypheus? But he's dead."

"These people will say anything to shake your confidence, Clarel." Erimond spoke to her, sneering down at Liz. Clarel pinched the bridge of her nose, looking every bit as conflicted as she probably felt.

Then…

"Bring it through." The comment it it of itself caused Liz's stomach to drop. Her eyes narrowed when the mages around the green glow began casting some sort of spell. The air rippled around them and she could feel something reaching for her. Trying to claw its way out. A chuckle. A very familiar chuckle.

No.

It wasn't.

Right?

That's when Hawke stepped forward, trying to convince the Wardens. Alistair, not liking it any more than the Champion. They were trying to turn them against their leaders. Liz knew how hard that would be, but perhaps some would see reason?

As they all spoke, everyone trying to talk sense into them. Liz couldn't keep her eyes off of the tear that was forming above the raised pedestal. Her gaze narrowed when she heard something breathing. Something big.

It pushed. Pushed. Prodding and pulling, wanting to burst forth. Fear licked at her insides, only to be stamped out when she felt someone brush against her shoulder. She turned, seeing that odd lanky rogue standing next to her. Cole, she remembered his name was. His huge leather hat hid most of his features as he stared forward, daggers poised to protect.

A screech drew her from her thoughts, causing her chest to quake. Her brown gaze snapped up to the sky, spotting a gigantic flying beast barreling toward them all. It shrieked again, breathing red as it splashed against the stone ground beneath them. Liz felt her body flying, only to hit the unforgiving stone.

"Unf!" She grunted, eyes opening and seeing Cole covering her from the fire. His hat shielded her vision, arms around her protectively. "….W-What-"

"Erin!"

The dragon's massive wings sent the air down into the courtyard, causing some of the people to stumble and fall to their knees. The rift rippled above the pedestal, showing eyes. Many many eyes, staring out. They all seemed to look in different directions, as if searching. Liz stared in horror as one of them caught sight of her.

They all turned and focused in on her, a voice filtering through the tear. _**"My my, look at you."**_

Her breath caught and she scrambled up from underneath the rogue who held her. She had to get away. Get away!

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph that thing is ugly!" Jade shrieked, seeing the demon inside of the rift.

"Iron Bull, take your group and find Clarel and Erimond. Don't let them get away!" Maxwell called, holding up his shield and facing the rift. Demons spouted out, but it was what was behind them that terrified the lot of them. Everyone could see it, now. See the thing that stalked Liz's dreams. "I need to stay here and try to close this rift!"

Yes, she knew who it was. Or, rather, what it was. _That_ demon.

The young mage didn't even see the Pride or Terror demons that stalked around, slicing at the Wardens and the Inquisition warriors. It was absolute mayhem.

And she ran.

Liz's feet carried her up the stairs on the left, unconsciously following the Iron Bull as he pursued Clarel. The Chargers followed, along with Jade and that odd man with the hat. The chase took them along the side of the fortress. Huge arches framed the expanse of the desert and rock formations in the distance. The dragon clutched onto the side, claws digging into the stone like it was dirt. It screeched and it grabbed one of the Inquisition soldiers that had been in the front right next to Bull.

The Ben-Hassrath let out a girly sounding shriek in response, burying his axe into the thing's feet. The dragon pushed itself off of the fortress, taking the screaming soldier with him into the skies.

"Come on, can't stop now!" He called, turning back to the task at hand and following the Warden Commander.

Armor shifted as they all ran along the ramparts, toward where Clarel had run. Fled from the group. Only for a dragon to roar once again. Did that thing ever give? Didn't it have better things to do? Like, dragon-y things?

"Be alert!" Rocky called as the massive beast seemed to make the whole area rumble. Jade squealed when they came upon the Warden as she stood out on the open.

"W-Wait, you guys. I have a bad feeling about this." The dwarf called, causing the group to stop near the arch in the wall. The Iron Bull stepped forward, as if to stalk up to Clarel and Erimond, but he was stopped by Jade. "Stop!"

The two mages were yelling at one another in the distance, fire and force magic being flung about. Liz could see how angry Clarel was at the pompous man for lying to her. Most of them stopped, but the young mage spotted Kyle stalking forward. Trying to be the hero. He'd followed the group at the command of Maxwell.

"She's right there, we have to-" Iron Bull swallowed his words when a shriek rang through the air as the dragon landed in front of them. The fortress shook and rumbled. The group stumbled backward, almost in unison. Bits and pieces of rubble began falling as it snatched up the Warden Commander and flew off with her. Kyle stared at the thing with widened eyes in the distance, body frozen as he stood in front of Erimond.

"Kyle! Get your ass back here!" Liz called, only to be grabbed and yanked back by that rogue again. Her mouth was covered by his pale hand, his other free hand holding his finger to his mouth.

"Shhh!"

Jade grabbed Bull and yanked him around the corner. The others followed without much protest, peeking out into the expanse of the half destroyed bridge. Erimond lay motionless on the ground, the young scout standing next to him.

Then, a body dropped from the sky and onto the bridge. Between the group and Kyle, who stood there looking up at the dragon as it landed atop the figure. It snarled, its tail flailing back and forth as it stepped towards its prey.

Liz turned and buried her face in the rogue's chest, not wanting to see the young man die. She always joked about how he would eventually get himself killed—but now? _Now?_

She knew his father. Sid. He was a nice older man.

The young woman let out a quiet whimper when she heard the dragon roar and the sound of magic sparking to life. She squeezed her eyes shut, but wasn't able to block out the sounds of the dragon as it fell from the broken bridge. Or the rumble and shake of the fortress side as it began to collapse and fall apart into the darkness.

* * *

Everything after that had passed in a blur. Liz couldn't really remember much. Because afterward, they had to retreat. Many had died and the demons that had been pouring out of the rift had been stemmed.

When she did come to, it was weeks and weeks later. She recalled fading in and out as they continued their trip back, but not much other than that. Sometimes there was a man, a blonde man, sitting near her holding her hand. But she couldn't recall his name or his face. It felt like it was slipping through her fingers, like water.

Then, her eyes opened and focused in. She was staring at the ceiling in her bedroom. Her arms felt as heavy as lead, fingers barely twitching on command. Liz let out a cough, trying to call for assistance. But nothing.

Minutes later, her door squeaked open followed by the short chubby form of Jade. She was holding a tray and humming. She paused, seeing Liz staring up at her with a frown. The dwarf flinched, sending some of the water in the cup sloshing onto the tray. "Oh, shit. You're awake!"

"R-Reeeally?" Liz sounded hoarse, trying to bring out some sarcasm. But her voice wouldn't listen.

"Well, at least you're still you." She muttered, "You've been out for awhile, you know. Ya missed a lot."

Why was she here and not Serana? Or Solas?

"S-Sera...na." Liz croaked and the dwarf nodded, putting the tray down on her nightstand. Jade walked around Liz's bed and opened the curtains, sending in the morning rays of sunlight. She squinted and turned to the young woman on the bed.

"Serana is alright." She sensed a lie, if she ever heard one. Jade was bad at that, "Shortly after ya passed out during the retreat, you shoulda seen! The dragon flew back by and there was a scout stuck in its horns!" She cackled, trying to change the subject, "You shoulda seen him! He was screaming loud enough for everyone to hear."

Liz winced, "...K...Kyle."

"Yeah..." The dwarf seemed to fumble for something to say. "Look, I just came in to check on you. Since you always take care of me. I got chu, bro." She held up her hand for a fist bump and Liz rose her brow. She shakily bumped fists with Jade and resisted the urge to ask where she got that from.

A question for later.

Right now, the young mage felt absolutely exhausted. Even though she'd just awoken from some sort of coma. Her head turned and she spotted just what the dwarf had brought her. It was a type of beef stew, but most of it was broth. Evidently something the conjured up, much like the stews for the sickly she'd requested all that time back.

Liz sighed and forced herself into a seated position, though with much effort. She turned, taking the bowl.

* * *

Her dreams came back full force, that night. One, there was a memory of Elise. Her little sister. _She was standing in the doorway at their apartment, dirty clothing scattered across her bedroom floor. She sat at her computer desk, staring down at her textbook trying to study._

" _Elise, I need it to be quiet..."_

" _Never be afraid, Lizzy. Grab life by the balls and make those exams your bitch!" She encouraged, pumping her fist and grinning at the woman. Liz felt a smile spreading across her face, only for it to slowly fall as the scene slowly melted away._

 _The scene changed and she was back at Adamant. Screaming everywhere. Men were dropping like flies_ _and everything seemed to slow to a crawl. They were all trying to retreat. Demons. Venatori. What remained of the Wardens in their control. It was all too much for them._

 _But Liz had been struck. She was down, dying—doomed._

 _Blood caked the side of her face and blinded her left eye. Her arm was nearly immovable, probably dislocated. The young woman had learned the hard way since her arrival. There was one thing she knew for certain._

 _Death was an inevitability._

 _Numerous times she'd been in a position similar to this one. Yet she had slipped away, barely alive. But living. But for the first time since her arrival, she knew. She just knew that she was done for. The mage sighed, time speeding up as the hammer came down with crushing force. Her eyes closed in acceptance from her spot kneeling on the ground._

 _Where there should have been the crunching of bone. Perhaps even the sharp pain that would have followed before death. No. Instead metal slammed onto metal, making a noise similar to a huge gong. A pained grunt and the feel of someone's body slamming into hers made her brown eyes snap open in surprise._

" _GET OUT OF THE WAY!" She heard a yell, armor knocking into her head and sending her onto the ground. Her body collided with unforgiving stone. Ringing. Her ears were ringing. Spots in her vision._

 _Liz could barely make out the blurred form of her supposed brother, standing above her. Though barely. He, too, looked nearly as bad as she. His shield was raised, sword nowhere to be found. From the ground, she stared up at his determined features and wondered … wondered why. Why?_

* * *

 **Cole**

 _Cole was dreaming. He was dreaming wasn't he? The rogue's sensitivity allowed him to know that much, at least. He turned, seeing his friend blinking in and out of consciousness from her spot laying on the ground maybe 20 feet away. He sidestepped, dashed, swung. Step step. He went where his feet told him to. Worry gnawed at his insides, like a rabid animal. He wanted to—no—he_ needed _to get over there._

 _Was this his dream or hers? She was stuck on the ground, just like that time. That time—_

" _Liz!" He called, but got no answer. Only the twitch of her fingers, blood slowly pooling beneath her. "Don't hurt her!"_

 _But his voice couldn't travel over the sounds of battle. Screams and singing of metal, scraping. Screeching. The rogue was surrounded. Leaving his position would mean abandoning Cassandra. The young man stood beside the Seeker, dipping and dodging between her swings. They were an immovable wall. She shielded him while he struck from below. Above. Their sparring having paid off, afterall._

 _The spirit dropped another, and another. His eyes flicked to the warrior, who pulled her sword out of a man with a wet sucking noise. He'd looked away for maybe seconds, minutes. He wasn't sure. His gaze slid back to his other friends—_

 _Maxwell was kneeling before the possessed Warden, hammer raised and ready to deliver a killing blow to the young man. Body bloody, beaten._

 _Cole's mouth opened in a silent scream. Interrupted by pain like no other. Pain not his own. A memory of a woman's voice, telling her older sister never to be afraid. 'Make it your bitch!'_

 _He blinked, only to find Liz's form standing in front of the Warden about to strike down Maxwell. Chirping could be heard, singing through the air. Electricity danced around her body, like a protective cloak. The young mage's hand was jutting on the other side of the man's torso. Body frozen._

 _He could have sworn he heard someone calling for him. Telling him to move. But he couldn't take his eyes off of his friend, who had appeared 10 feet from her prone position in but seconds._

 _How?_

 _The young woman ripped her arm out of his torso with such dispassion, body moving almost mechanically. Red life force caked her tanned skin, up to her elbow as she turned her brown eye toward Cole. She looked right passed him, as if she didn't even see him._

' _ **THUD'**_ _, the man's body fell limp next to her._

 _The air seemed to shift around her, causing her hair to lift. Her body disappeared._

' _ **CRACK!'**_ _thunder snapped, shorting out the rogue's hearing as the air shifted next to him. It made a hissing noise as electricity discharged through the air._

 _The Seeker's surprised yells could be heard behind him. But he couldn't make it out, ears full of cotton balls._

 _Then came the burbling and the screaming. That was quite evident._

 _He slowly turned, seeing what could only be described as absolute carnage. Red. Red everywhere. It was on the snow, in the mud. All over Cassandra's armor. In the middle of it all, his friend. Liz. She stood there, dismembered bodies scattered at her feet. Her hands twitched, eye staring off into the woods as if scanning for more people. Cassandra held her sword out toward the girl, arm shaking._

 _It felt like minutes, hours maybe, before the light dancing across her skin subsided. A weapon he had not seen before hissed and dissipated into thin air. He could have sworn it'd resembled a whip of some sort._

"… _..Liz….?" Cole spoke hesitantly, trying to hear her. He took a step. Then another. Heedless to the wet squish of flesh and goo underneath his leather boots. Wardens and demons alike lay dead, battle done. Silence._

 _Liz turned and took a step toward Cole, eye unfocused. Blood and green goo caked the woman, like some grotesque painting. The Seeker tensed next to him, her stance battle-ready._

" _Erin." She addressed hesitantly, trying to get the mage's attention. "Erin."_

 _But she wouldn't respond. Her body moved, as if her joints were stiff. Mechanical. Step. Step. Pause. Step. She went right passed the two, heading toward Maxwell. Only to stop and stare down at him._

 _The warrior was still kneeling in the same position on the ground. He stared up at his sister, fear evident on his face. For the first time since Cole arrived, he noticed the complete unfamiliarity that crossed the young man's face as he stared up at his sister._

 _Maxwell's mouth opened to speak only to be interrupted by a cough, blood spittled out of Liz's mouth and nose—_ _ **THUD**_ _._

 _The young mage's body flopped to the ground unceremoniously, eyes rolling back and body shaking._

" _Erin!" "Liz!" Cole and Maxwell found their voices._

 _The young man, Herald to many, held his sister down. Frantic eyes looked up to Cole and Cassandra in question. "What's going on!?"_

" _Maxwell, stand back." The sound of metal gliding into a sheath met Cole's ears as he stared down in shock. Body unable to move. It was like his limbs were made out of metal. How could he help? He couldn't. His friend was dying in front of him and he couldn't do a thing!_

 _The Seeker knelt down next to Liz and dug into her pouches, finding a vial of some sort and uncorking it. "She used too much mana. She is going into shock."_

" _Is she alright?"_

 _He was only met with silence as deft hands forced the liquid down the mage's throat, only to have it coughed right back up. The woman hissed, "Drink it or you will die." A pause, "Go and get Solas, Cole."_

 _A sense of urgency could be felt, rippling through the air. He didn't need to be told twice._

" _It's a dream." Cole spoke from behind Liz, who was standing above her prone body. Everyone was rushing to keep her alive._

" _I know." She turned, eyes connecting with his own. "What are you?"_

 _Cole smiled and_ felt himself awaken, feeling his mind pull away from her own. He sat up and stared forth, realizing that he'd fallen asleep in the kitchens. The rogue rubbed his eyes, feeling them itch and sting. He still wanted to lay down and close his eyes. If even for a little bit longer.

So he did.

The rest of the night was spent in silence.


	21. I Want to Matter

"I Want to Matter"

 _The otherworlder marveled at the sight of her apartment once again. Back when Elise and Elizabeth both decided to get an apartment together it was clean, crisp and cozy. That particular memory was playing before her eyes as she watched her little sister cook breakfast. She couldn't hear a word she was singing, but she danced and swayed her hips. Sometimes she did a twirl, a bright smile on her face as her black ponytail flipped around. The smell of bacon wafted into Liz's nostrils, the faint sizzling popping from the pan on the stove._

 _Liz watched, a wistful smile on her face at the familiar sight. The morning sun shone in from the window, brightening the bare white apartment. There wasn't much in terms of furniture yet, but at that moment in time… all that mattered was that they had each other._

" _Where are we?" Liz blinked at the new voice. She turned, seeing the odd blonde rogue from before._

" _Cole?"_

" _Yes. Sorry." His brows furrowed, blue gaze trailing around at the odd new surroundings. Was this really Cole or was it just a spirit pretending to be Cole? Liz stared at him oddly, "I am me."_

 _He kept staring at her, eyes darting around then hesitantly looking back at her. Almost like he wasn't sure and he felt out of place, unsure. Liz blinked, "Is something wrong?"_

" _The body feels right when you're here. You're taller, now. Proud. Familiar." He commented and she felt her brows raise into her hair. Of course. That explained why she wasn't much shorter than he, in the Fade. "But you're you, no matter where you are. Because it's what is here that matters."_

 _At that, he pointed at her chest._

" _I feel like … I should know you." Liz spoke hesitantly, "It's on the tip of my tongue. Have you ever felt that?"_

" _I used to, but not anymore. Things are different, now. I remember more. I am learning." Cole smiled, "Thank you."_

" _Why are you thanking me?"_

" _You're learning, too. But don't worry. Friends help friends, remember?" His smile brightened and she could feel it. The same feeling as-_

 _As?_

'Before he left, I felt him smile.'

 _How was it even possible? To_ feel _someone smile? Can that even happen? An invisible thread, a ribbon. Something floating just out of her reach. It felt like the Fade._

 _Liz never thought to, not until then. Thought to grab it. Touch it. So she did. The mage reached out with her mind, like an invisible hand reaching out to grasp the thing always lingering nearby. Never gone. Never fading. The source of the foreign feelings. Feelings not her own._

 _Her heart raced, for the briefest of seconds she remembered._ She remembered. _Her eyes widened, pain flashed before her eyes. Filled her chest, before anger. She was angry. How dare he?! How dare—_

 _Then, it was gone. The blonde man stepped away, looking at her with fear in his eyes. Fear and confusion. Why was he looking at her like that? Wasn't she just?_

" _ **Well, would you look at this."**_ _A familiar voice boomed, causing her memory to shudder and sway. The young mage looked around, feeling the whole apartment complex rumble. He was coming._ _ **"The maggot that took my prize. It will be two in one. I will show you what it means to defy me, filthy-"**_

 _Liz, in her fit of irritation, pushed against him with her mind. Her will. She'd practiced, like Solas taught her, and focused on keeping him away. And above all, don't listen to anything it had to say. She could hear an enraged growl before –_ she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling of her room.

The little mage sighed, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. How many days, now? That thing keeps coming back. It wouldn't stop.

And… what was she dreaming about again? Who? Or was it what? All Liz could grasp was the memory of a color. Or, rather, crystalline blue eyes. A piercing gaze, seeing right through her. _'Who? Who are you?'_

It'd been a few days since they arrived in Skyhold, now. Liz was recovering quite nicely, in her opinion. She slipped out of the bed and grabbed a small book out from her nightstand, flipping it open. Her scribbles looked haphazard and choppy. Like a child's writing.

The symbols for Common were weird.

The young woman began to write with a piece of charcoal. A journal entry. Practice made perfect, afterall. She didn't want to risk anyone seeing the English language written in one of her journals, anyway.

* * *

 _Ever felt like you're missing something but don't know what? You'd walk into your bedroom or outside and completely space what it was you were supposed to do._

 _Every time I woke up, I felt that…._

 _Last night I dreamt of home, again-_

* * *

 **Cole**

Cole found that he was avoiding the Inquisitor more often than not, as of late. The rogue was intimidated, to put it simply. The two weren't on the best of terms, ever since he'd found out about what he did to his sister. Or, rather, Liz.

Maxwell had been absolutely furious. He'd never seen him get so upset since he's joined the Inquisition. He was sure no one has. The young man was usually smiling and happy, hiding his insecurities with a soft unsuspecting blanket. Cole knew. Cassandra knew.

But he evidently drew the line at his family. If anyone messed with them, he turned into mother bear.

Varric had taken his side and tried to reason with the man, stating that perhaps it was for her own good. That Cole had never made anyone forget for any malicious reasons. _'How wrong he'd been about that...'_

The rogue sat in the gardens, cross legged in the grass. It swayed underneath his fingertips, his mind lost in thought.

Solas had simply given Cole a piercing gaze. A knowing gaze. The rogue could feel it wafting off of him, his curiosity. His intrigue. That only seemed to grow as the days went on. Especially in the weeks it took them to get back to Skyhold. The apostate had bombarded him with questions, testing to see if he was still Despair. If he was still Compassion. Spirit. Demon? _Human_.

Even someone as ancient as Solas was confused by what had happened to the once-spirit. But, oddly enough, he didn't seem completely surprised. Almost as if he'd seen it coming. Almost as if he'd seen it before but couldn't for the life of him figure out how it was happening.

If anything, Cole could have sworn he felt almost frustrated. But beyond that, the rogue couldn't pick much off of him. He'd always been a hard nut to crack. His hurts too compact, hidden.

Cole sighed and ran his finger along the soft petal of the white flower in front of him, a searching look in his eyes. He couldn't just simply make people forget anymore. His abilities were slowly slipping away, like sand between his fingers. He could still hear people, but it felt like they were far away. His ability to connect with people was there, but certain aspects disappeared. It was almost like he could hear himself more. He remembered more. He _saw_ more, from his own eyes. It was … hard to explain.

But it was utterly confusing. Difficult, mostly. New? Not entirely. Cole remembered his time in the White Spire, when he forgot what he was. He'd thought he needed to sleep. To eat. To have normal bodily functions. So he did. So those things weren't new.

But it was the things like the lethargy that followed if he didn't sleep and eat enough. The pains in his stomach when he didn't eat the right things. Or perhaps the time he'd thought that eating a raw egg was a good idea, which only resulted in him _puking_.

That? It was not pleasant.

Nor was muscle pains. He didn't know he could hurt in so many different places all at once. Was this what being human meant? So much pain? So much suffering?

No wonder humans were so ornery.

Cole grabbed a fistful of grass and bit the inside of his cheek, wincing at the pain. Irritability was also a thing he experienced. Especially now that he hadn't slept enough in the passed three days. His friend kept floating through his mind. She …

She was dreaming more about her sister, as of late. Cole didn't know how he knew that. Normally everything about her was so dimmed, dull—dragging underneath muddy water. But, ever since before Adamant… things changed.

"Hey, Kid? What're ya up to over there?" He heard the crunching of boots at his left. Cole rested his back against the tree behind him, feeling his hat tilt up as he looked up at the dwarf in question. Varric. He smiled down at the blonde human, "Was wondering if you wanted to join me for some dinner. It's on me!"

"Why?" It was a simple question. He was curious, but for some reason his voice came out harsher than he'd intended. Varric's brows rose.

"Jeez, here I thought Chuckles was joking but look at you… have you been sleeping at all?" The man bent over and examined the rogue's face, worry evident in his tone. "I mean, it's hard enough tryin' to get you to eat. But you need to sleep, Kid. It's important."

"I'm sorry, Varric." Cole muttered, standing up from his spot on the ground. Heedless to the grass sticking to his bottom, he picked at the front of his shirt nervously. He looked down at the dwarf, who waved to him to follow.

Soon enough, the duo began making their way through the main hall and to Varric's usual perch. His table was filled with books and writing utensils, along with unused journals and letters scattered about. The writer huffed and moved some of his belongings aside, motioning for Cole to sit.

"Don't mind the mess, been a little busy." Varric grunted and took a seat on the other side of the table, facing the scraggly blonde with concern. When the young man didn't answer, he spoke up. "Look, I don't know what happened between you and Sunny … but she wouldn't be happy to see you like this."

"But she is." Cole spoke solemnly, "Happy, I mean. She doesn't know, so she can't be sad to see me hurt – hollow. _She doesn't know._ "

The torch behind the dwarf swayed from the soft breeze that flitted into the hall, casting dancing shadows against the aged stone.

"Why did you do it, anyway?" At Cole's scrunched brows, Varric elaborated. "Make her forget."

The young rogue felt his shoulders tense, eyes darting to the knotted wood that made up the table. His hands began tracing the patterns idly. His mind was awash with thoughts, feelings, regrets all his own. He was so caught up in them, he couldn't hear the hum of memories from the wood like he usually did.

"I was … she—" Cole stuttered, trying to grasp the words. He couldn't, so he fell into his usual lilting tone, letting them flow as he saw them. As he felt them, "Like lightning incarnate. Beautiful, quick—hot to the touch. Everything she does leaves a thundering roar in her wake. Other times. Like static. Humming. Vibrating within me, her skin against mine. She … _makes_ me-" He stumbled, feeling his chipped fingernails dig into the old wood, "-she makes me want things. To feel, to touch, to _know_."

"I knew it." He chuckled and Cole's eyes snapped up to his, responding quick and hurried.

"But—I wanted to _possess_ her, Varric. I wanted-" Alarm filled his voice, but he paused when he felt the dwarf's hands cover his own. Stopping his movements. Cole sat there, chest heaving.

"What you are feeling is normal, Kid. It's a part of being human. I don't think what you wanted was necessarily to _possess_ her so much as it was to be _with_ her." He explained with a knowing smirk. "Oh hey, look. Food's here."

And like that, a tray of meats and cheeses were placed before the two. The young woman left plates in front of them, as well as a basket of breads. With a bow, she skittered off. The assassin stared down at the items atop the table, brows scrunching ever so slightly.

"Have you found anything you like?" The dwarf questioned as he filled his plate, that ever present grin on his face.

"Most of it doesn't taste like anything." It was too bland. Cole paused and stuck his tongue out, "Bleh."

"Well, have you been adding salt?" Varric asked and he nodded, scratching his stubble in thought. "What about red peppers? Maybe you should _spice_ things up."

It was as if the dwarf chuckled at some sort of inside joke, just then. Cole didn't get it.

Varric sighed and pulled a shaker from off to the side, setting it in front of the young rogue. He stared at him expectantly. Cole picked it up, "Red peppers?"

"Yeah, those are crushed red peppers. It's spicy so you should-" Cole turned it like one would the salt, but when he shook it the top fell off and the flakes fell all over his meal. "-be careful. Right. Well. _That_ happened."

The once-spirit didn't miss the snicker coming from somewhere behind him. A snicker that sounded oddly like Sera. Cole stared down at his meal with a frown tugging at his lips. Liz always told him to never waste what nature gave them. He didn't intend on wasting this food. So he picked up the piece of meat between his fingertips and held it up to his mouth.

He didn't notice the mortified look on Varric's face as he tried to speak, "Wait, Kid-"

Cole took a big bite, feeling his eyes widen as the flavor exploded onto his taste buds. It was unlike anything he'd ever had before. Whereas everything else felt bland and tasteless, the spiciness that the red peppers brought seemed to make up for that.

The dwarf fumbled around and held out a tankard to Cole. But he was too lost in the taste to notice. He took another bite. And another. And another. Soon enough he was tearing ravenously into the meal before him, heedless to the looks of horror he was getting.

By the time his plate was nearly empty, Varric had set the tankard down in front of him. His friend hadn't even begun to eat, instead opting for watching the young man devour his food like he hadn't eaten in ages. And, technically, that was true. Ever since his change, he hadn't eaten much. Before then? Not at all, after he left the Spire.

But this? This was delicious. He understood now why people loved to eat.

"It's really good, Varric!" Cole spoke cheerfully, sending bits flying. "You should try it."

"Yeah… I think I'm good. Don't talk with your mouth full. It's not polite."

Cole swallowed, suddenly feeling shy. "Sorry."

"That there was August Ram. In all my years, I've never seen anyone spill half a canister of red peppers on their meal and say it was _good_." The dwarf chuckled, taking a small bite out of a dinner roll.

The two sat in amiable silence as they continued their meals. Varric asked Cole how he was doing and reminded him that if he ever needed anything, to just come to him. Varric was always good like that. Cole thought that he was a very good man and had a big heart. It was why he enjoyed his company, especially in times like this. When he wasn't sure how to feel or how to go about things.

The dwarf seemed to just have that way about him. Even Cole felt calmed by his presence.

It wasn't long until he made his way away from the table, leaving the older man to write his letters in peace. By that point it was well into the evening, the sun still making it's slow descent from the sky. The rogue stopped just outside of the Main Hall and took a deep breath. A few groups of people ambled by, paying him no mind. Aside from a select few that gave him odd looks. He couldn't hide anymore, unfortunately.

Making people forget his presence was something he would miss, that was for sure. Though his hat seemed to help keep his nerves in check. He felt hidden, face obscured from sight.

As he stood there at the top of the staircase, he felt irritation flare in his chest. Cole stopped and stared, confused. He'd been experiencing random bouts of irritation and anger that didn't feel like his own, almost as if transferred to him through an invisible thread of sorts. It was disconcerting.

He concentrated and it felt like… it was coming from up. _'Up there?'_

He peered up at Vivienne's balcony.

"...don't like it." A voice slowly emerged onto the balcony above.

"Erin, my dear. You are nobility, surely you know you cannot be found flouncing around in those rags." It was Vivienne who walked out and stood next to his short friend, looking down at her. Her horned head garment glinted in the sunlight, plump lips set into a disapproving frown. "Our Dearest Ambassador even went out of her way to acquire your old wardrobe."

"And this… this _thing_ was in there?" He could just hear the disgusted crinkle of her nose and Cole tilted his head curiously. He couldn't really see her from the angle he was at, causing a jolt of curiosity to pass through him.

"Indeed. The Inquisitor spoke highly of it, said it was your favorite."

"Yeah, when I was 10." Liz deflected and from where he was standing, he could feel her nervousness.

"It certainly does need some work." The First Enchanter conceded, her delicate hands pointing out some flaws on the garment. Liz turned and shook her head, leaning her elbows along the balcony. Cole's eyes widened, almost not recognizing her. "Come now, I don't have all day. Many of them are out of style, for sure. But it is considerably better than the rags you call clothes."

"They aren't rags, Vivienne—er—Madam de Fer?" The little mage stood up straight and looked over toward her as she spoke, "I find that they are rather practical. I doubt I'd ever have as much poise and elegance to allow me to walk around in an outfit like yours."

Liz almost appeared to be pouting as she stared over at the Orlesian mage. The horned woman let out a pleasant sounding chuckle, "With enough practice ... anyone could be proficient at it, Dear. Practice creates confidence. Confidence? It empowers you. Now stand tall, shoulders squared—yes, like that."

The conversation slowly filtered away as the two mages walked into the building and off the balcony.

He didn't remember how long he was standing right in the door to the main hall. Cole simply stood there, eyes distant as they drifted from the now empty balcony to the expanse of Skyhold as a whole.

He remembered how he used to skulk around, as Despair. Hurting people and _liking_ it. Instead of pulling the knots apart gently, he yanked at them and broke them. Digging at their innermost insecurities and pulling out the despair and agony that lay beneath.

Cole remembered feeling it and it making him feel _alive_. The thought itself made him shiver. How… how could he do that? How could he hurt people like that and like it? That wasn't him. Right?

It hurt. Maker it hurt so much to think that he allowed himself to get like that. It hurt it hurt, why did it hurt so much? He had gone against everything he believed in. Everything he thought himself to be. Wanted.

The young man's gaze got blurry as he stood there, fists clenched. Angry. The door to the rotunda squeaked open and then shut. He wasn't sure how, but he knew it was his friend. Liz. For some reason, it was almost like he could always sense where she was. That little thread that he saw and felt that seemed to connect the two? More prominent now than ever.

He felt he didn't deserve it. That little connection they seemed to have with one another. He'd taken her memories away, a selfish action. He'd hurt her. He remembered her angered expression in her dream. He remembered.

He didn't deserve it.

So Cole tried to grab it. The thread. He felt around almost blindly. When he touched it, he could _hear_.

' _What was I thinking? Letting my guard down around that woman? She-'_ Liz's thoughts jolted to a stop when Cole yanked at it, trying to cut the connection.

A scream. An agonized scream split through the air and caused the thoughts in his head to screech to a halt. Cole whirled around, seeing a small crowd of people forming in a circle. Nobles and servants alike, worried. Gossiping.

The once-spirit skittered his way back inside, feeling the heat of the hall embrace him as he stalked forward. The young man pushed his pain in the back of his mind, or tried to, in favor of seeing what was wrong. _'Liz Liz. Liz? What's wrong?'_

Cole pushed passed a small outcropping of people and felt his chest give another squeeze at the sight. Liz was kneeling on the ground near the throne, a wild look in her eyes. Her hands were grasping at her chest, clawing.

Mother Giselle was in the front, kneeling next to the small mage with a concerned look on her features. Her red and white robes had gold trim, which seemed to shine against the daggers of light that pierced through the stained glass windows above.

"You fell over, young one. Do you need assistance getting to the infirmary?" The elderly woman asked in a kind tone.

"I'm … I'm fine…" Liz's voice came out weak, fingers splayed out like a fan against the cold stone floor. Her other hand still grasped her chest. Her emotions were like a turbulent storm, slowly building and whirling around inside of her. Confusion, the most prominent.

Mother Giselle's hand was extended, as if to try to help her up from the ground.

"Don't. Touch. Me." An even tone spoke in warning, lightning crackled up the mage's arms. Cole could feel her hurt, even from where he was standing. Hurt. Confusion. Why was she hurt? It didn't make sense.

The rogue slipped passed the small group of people and knelt down next to the small mage. She hissed, glaring at him with a look of absolute unfamiliarity. She didn't know him. Not like she used to.

And she never would.

The thought caused another jolt of misery to filter through the rogue. Which, to his complete and utter surprise, resounded through the young woman in front of him. Not as potent as his own, but pain did flicker through her eyes for the barest of seconds.

Coles hand clasped around her shoulder and without warning, electricity cracked around the two. It lit up the area in ominous hues of blue and purple. The people behind him gasped and scurried back.

"Get off!" Obviously it was meant to paralyze him or hurt him in some way. But it didn't. Her magical attack simply danced around the both of them harmlessly.

Coles eyes widened as he realized just why that was. He could feel it. There. Her own magic registered him as her, somehow. But why? Why did-

The young woman scrambled up and ran through the door to the Trevelyan's Quarters, the door slamming shut. It echoed through the quiet hall. Then came the whispers. Whispers of disbelief. Some of gossip. Some of worry. Most of all, of fear.

They all knew her to have lived alone, an apostate from the wilds. Her origin, afterall, had not been hidden. Some even theorized she _was_ a Witch of the Wilds, due to her uncommon ability to shapeshift and her prickly demeanor toward other people. But no one acted upon their fear or mistrust of the young woman, due to her relation to the Inquisitor.

Seeing her like that, it … it made something inside of him ache. In his chest. Cole felt, he believed it was, longing. He longed for Liz to look at him like she once did. To remember. To see him and give him that smile of hers. To laugh and share stories about her world and as a result almost feel how the burden of the worlds seemed to lift off of her shoulders.

Cole hoped that one day Liz realized that it didn't matter _where_ she was from that mattered. It was _who_ she was. Inside. How she treated people. How she felt.

His eyes seemed to widen at that thought. If that were the case, didn't that mean it was the case for himself too? Why wouldn't it be? Cole was once a spirit—demon—something. He wasn't from here, either. Solas wasn't. But there they were, nestled within the Inquisition. A place to be. People to call home.

It wasn't just in his actions that he found purpose, he realized. It was also in the way he interacted with his friends, Varric and Solas. The closeness he felt with them and even… and even Liz, who didn't remember him. It was in the bonds he formed over the course of his time in the Inquisition.

And the memories….

Cole stared at the stone floor, brows scrunched underneath his mop of stringy hair. Memories. They also contributed to what made a person who they were. At one point in time, the rogue would have wanted to get rid of his memories. To wash clean. But that's not how things were supposed to be. This way he learned. This way he _was_.

And, for the first time in a long while, Cole regretted his decision.

He stood up and looked at the door, contemplating. Knowing now why Liz had been so furious with him in her dream, during that brief time she remembered. Knowing that what he did was wrong, not just because it went against her wishes. But also because that wasn't his choice to make.

Cole knew then, that he didn't just want her to remember. He _needed_ her to remember. Not just for her, but for him. _Because he wanted to matter._

' _I_ _ **want**_ _to matter.'_ With that thought in mind, the lanky rogue opened the door as slowly as possible to prevent noise. He scurried around the bend and opened the door to the Trevelyan Quarters. The light poured in through the massive windows above and he could hear his friend pacing in the main room above. Bare feet pattering back and forth. Back and forth.

"….was that?" Her voice was low, hard to hear as he slowly creeped up the staircase. "I thought I had a heart attack. But it's gone. Why is it gone?"

He peered over, underneath the stone railing, and blinked. She paused near the unlit fireplace with her back turned to him. Her little calloused hand was resting underneath her chin as she seemed to contemplate what had happened in the Main Hall.

The rogue could practically _hear_ the confusion roiling off of her.

A long pause, "…. It's probably the stress…"

She seemed deep in thought, since she didn't even react to him as he rounded the top of the stairs and walked up to her. His feet barely made any noise. More so out of habit than anything, really.

"Liz-" His voice was cut off by a squeak as the mage whirled around, her dagger flying from a holster at her side. Cole flinched back, barely avoiding the slash as it glimmered in the sunlight. "A-Ah!"

The young woman froze just before she was about to go in for another jab, "Y-You!"

"S-Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you."

"I hadn't asked before, but how the Hell do you even know my name?"

"You told me." Well, it wasn't completely a lie.

She stared at him with narrowed brown eyes, dagger still within her grip. "What did you want? You could have knocked. But—" She ruffled her hair, an odd expression passing across her face, "—ergh! Look. I'm sorry about almost toasting you. I wasn't myself. Don't tell Max?"

Oh. She felt guilty. Cole smiled and nodded, hands coming up in a placating gesture. His shoulder were shrunken in, unintentionally making himself seem less threatening. The young woman slowly sheathed her dagger before crossing her arms.

"I-I." Cole's hands wanted to grip her shoulders and pull her closer, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. He was afraid of scaring her. So he settled with fidgeting instead, pulling at the frayed ends of his worn out long sleeve. "I needed to try something. I need you to..." _'I need you to remember. I want you to remember me!'_ But it wouldn't come out. Like it was stuck in his throat. Choking him.

His blue eyes averted, darting anywhere but hers. But not before he saw her brow raise in question.

"Look, man. I need to get back to the healing tents, my shift starts soon." Liz began to speak lightly, as if trying not to scare him. She must have caught onto his anxiety, "But I need to clean myself up, first. Do you mind?"

"N-No! But-" Cole clenched his fists, feeling his chipped fingernails dig into his flesh. He winced but it seemed to steel his resolve. "The mind forgets but the heart always remembers."

His mind reached out to that thread, the one that seemed to connect the two of them. He felt it, then. The confusion. The frustration, that she was feeling. She seemed to notice this, as well, and took a cautious step back.

"What are you doing to me?" Liz spoke in warning, fingers twitching near her dagger. Already itching to draw it against him. Again. Cole felt pain, just then. Yet again, it mirrored into her. "Y-You. This isn't me. It's you, isn't it? I've been-"

Her mouth moved, but the words wouldn't come out. But he knew. _He knew._

Cole stepped forward, and though the mage's body twitched as if to move away. She didn't. If anything, she seemed to lean into his touch as his hand brushed the side of her face. His fingers slowly slid up to her forehead, pushing her ash brown locks out of the way.

"I want you to remember." He breathed, hoping that it would work. Even though his abilities were slowly waning. Bit by bit. Piece by piece.

But the rogue hoped, that with the connection. This thread, he could pull her back to him. It all happened so fast. His face screwed up into concentration, sweat beading the side of his face. Then, _**'pop!'**_

A flash of white, then they gasped.

The duo recoiled from one another. For different reasons. Cole felt pain erupt in his temples, radiating into the back of his skull. It seemed to pulsate. His vision blurred and he sat there, hands on his knees as he tried to take in lungfuls of air.

Exhaustion, he recognized the feeling as. The same feeling he's been having. Slowly, it built up until he slept. But he slept, right? This. He felt like he hadn't slept in _days_. Once he regained his bearings, barely, he straightened up and let his gaze slide up to his friend.

Liz was sitting there, staring up at him with widened eyes. It was then that he could feel the pain, the betrayal she felt. Tears built up in her eyes and—

' _ **Thwack!'**_ She slapped the brim of his hat, sending it sliding down his face slightly.

"Ow!" He cried on instinct, even though it didn't really hurt. But it startled him.

"Why would you do that!?" She yelled, anger clear in her tone. "Why!? You promised!"

"You promised, too!" He shot back, feeling tears spring to his eyes for multiple reasons. He pushed his hat up as he spoke, staring down at his friend defiantly. Only to instantly regret it the moment it left his mouth. Liz flinched, as if slapped.

"I-I..." She stuttered and Cole's expression crumpled. She wanted to. She knew she needed to, but she couldn't.

"No… I'm sorry. No _no_. I didn't." He stumbled over his words, "That wasn't the right thing to say."

The woman lowered her head, brown bangs covering her eyes. She was trembling.

"Liz… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." Cole's voice wobbled, his hands coming up to hesitantly rest upon her shoulders. She began to shake even more. Due to their close proximity, he could feel the pain tearing at her heart. He pulled her into his arms, "Liz..."

"I'm so sorry, Cole." She whispered, face buried in his chest. "I couldn't do it."

' _I was too weak.'_ He heard.

He still didn't know how to feel. Conflicted was the best way to explain it. On one hand, he felt happy that she cared so much about him. Overjoyed, even. But on another, he was so mad. So angry that she would allow him to hurt other people. Hurt her.

But right in that moment, the only thing he did know he felt. Relief. Happiness. She remembered him. He did it!

Cole squeezed her, fingers threading through her short chopped hair. And then, when she looked up at him. The sunlight spilled over hear tanned features, lighting her in a beautiful glow. He couldn't resist, his hand caressed the side of her face. Thumb moving gently across one of her scars.

Liz stared up at him, almost confused.

The rogues eyes flicked to her lips, remembering how it felt to kiss her. How soft they were. How it felt like his heart was soaring. How eagerly she'd kissed him back, letting him know that his feelings were reciprocated. He could still hear it, buried deep within. The tender affection she held for him.

It was right about then the rogue felt his exhaustion beginning to build up even more. It slammed into him like a flying boulder. The young man groaned and fell to his knees, his hands covering his face.

"C-Cole, are you alright!?" Liz sounded worried and he could feel her in front of him, holding him. Making sure he didn't fall and hurt himself. He smiled and laughed giddily, happy that she remembered him now. Happy that he made things right. He dropped his hands and stared up at his friend, who looked utterly confused.

Everything felt foggy.

"When was the last time you slept?" She asked and Cole felt his hearing slowly giving out. All he could do was give her a cheesy smile, enjoying how it felt to have her so close. Enjoying the way her cheeks reddened when he smiled at her.

"You're cute when you blush like that." He slurred. That was the last thing he remembered saying before he saw her eyes widen and he passed out.

* * *

 **x0x0**

Note (I'll delete later) : I wanted to try to portray the confusion and inability to control his emotions in this chapter. How did I do? He's also starting to realize some things, which is a good thing.

Also, I apologize for the long wait. I had a really awful down spiral and I'm sure some of you know how that feels. It sapped any motivation I seemed to have. Everything seems to be alright, though. It always is. ^_^


	22. Revelations

"Revelations"

' _Cute? He thinks I'm cute?'_ Liz practically screeched inwardly. He couldn't just say that and then pass out. It just wasn't fair!

Liz was a melting pot of emotions, right then. Many things shot through her mind at light speed as she set a tray of bread and cheeses down on her nightstand. Her friend, or … _was_ he her friend? He certainly was her friend, but what else were they? What would that even classify as? The two's relationship hung somewhere between friends and _lovers_.

The memory of their kiss flashed before her eyes.

It played, like a movie. Though you couldn't feel movies, could you? Feel the softness of his lips, or the burning sensation of the blush that crept up the back of her neck? The way her stomach flipped just thinking about the incident.

Her eyes darted away from Cole, who was asleep in her bed. He hadn't stirred since she put him into the bed. She'd used a spell to diagnose anything, if at all, and it'd simply told her that he was exhausted. Extremely so. His body, while more human, still seemed to be working completely fine. Which was good.

It was an odd sight. One that she wasn't quite used to. Cole asleep, that is. He shifted in his sleep and cuddled one of her many pillows. His straw blonde hair seemed nearly silvery in the moonlight that shot through her window. Her chest warmed at the sight as she pulled the blanket over his slumbering form. But unfortunately, she was supposed to be on the job at that current time. And she was late.

The young woman huffed and stood up to leave. She crept out of the room and left the door cracked, just in case. She walked to the balcony and took in a deep breath, allowing her mana to build in her stomach and slowly expand to the rest of her body.

She shrunk and shrunk, until she was a small black crow. Liz leapt off of the railing and dove just above the gardens, which where mostly empty aside from a few sisters and Mother Giselle.

This way was quicker.

The little mage flew over to the infirmary and burst into a puff of black feathers. She landed in front of the stone building on her, now, human feet.

"M-Maker's balls, kid!" An older male voice choked out, causing Liz to snap her attention up and through her mop of messy bangs. Adan was standing in the door that lead to the infirmary, hand on his chest. "You're going to give an old man a heart attack! Where have you been, your shift started ages ago!"

"My friend fell ill, I am here to retrieve a potion for him." Liz stated as she stood up straight, "I will return in a few short moments, I apologize."

With that, she shifted beside the elderly man and walked into the building. Her small fingers grazed the many glass vials that sat on the far shelf, just passed a few cots. One of which was occupied by none other than Kyle, the fabled Luckless Scout. The young man was covered nearly head to toe with bandages, three out of the four limbs in splints. It seemed he still nodded in and out of consciousness.

Liz let out a snort as she remembered the story of how he survived, her hand stuffing the potion into her pouch. It was minor and would help with any aches and pains that came with the exhaustion that Cole had. It wasn't anything too serious, yet. She would have to have a talk with him about his sleeping habits. Or, lackthereof.

The young woman turned to leave, only to come face to face with her superior. Adan's arms were crossed, his bushy eyebrow twitching as he glared down at the little mage.

"Don't you go thinkin' that you can get out of work just because you're the Inquisitor's sister." He griped, "I ain't givin' you no special treatment, girl."

"I never expected you to. Have I ever been late before now? I'll be back before you know it, Old Man." Liz waved him off, ducking underneath his elbow. She heard a derisive snort as she transformed into a crow again, taking off to the skies and toward the balcony of the Trevelyan's Quarters.

True to her word, it didn't take her long to leave the vial next to the food she brought her friend. With a note, of course. The hasty scribbles that _kind_ of resembled common told him to eat and take the medicine, or there shall be consequences.

A few grumbled curses later and Adan hobbled his way out of the infirmary, leaving her alone with the patients. All of which were the ones under observation and asleep.

Liz's gaze slid over Kyle's battered form. The last time she remembered seeing him, he was stuck on the dragon's horns as it flew off. The sound of his scream had echoed over the battle, sounding distinctly familiar. Like a certain Wilhelm Scream.

The question being, how the hell did he even survive? He had stupid luck.

"Dad no..." She heard Kyle groan, his voice sounding croaky. Liz rose her brow, knowing that he was probably high on something Adan cooked up. "No … potato."

The little woman moved over toward him, checking his bandages and making sure he was comfortable. There was always a small piece of parchment on the rickety table near the beds that held the patient's information. Such things in her world would be illegal, due to HIPPA.

But this was Thedas.

"Hey, stay down." She grumbled when he began to twitch, as if trying to sit up. His brown eyes were opened and unfocused, blearily looking around the room.

"This isn't my house."

"No."

"So, no potatoes?"

"No."

With that, his eyes crossed and he plopped back into the cot. Liz squinted at Kyle's still form. Yeah, definitely high. She blinked and turned her attention toward the sheet of parchment, still barely able to read much.

' _Scout Kyle Harrington_

 _Left shoulder dislocation, both legs broken—lower calf. (Illegible) … every 4 hours for pain.'_

Liz squinted, unable to really glean much else off of it. She knew to compare the names of medicines to the titles on the vials in the shelves. So that wasn't hard. But it seemed as though they expected him to recover but was unsure if he'd regain full movement of his left leg.

"Well, at least you're alive." She muttered to the unconscious man, setting the parchment down with a sigh. "…. damn kids."

Her lips twitched into a frown. Now she was beginning to sound like the Old Man.

* * *

Her shift was quiet that night. Mostly consisting of cleaning up the place and reorganizing the shelves for better efficiency. The patients remained asleep, even through her redressing. The tiny mage sighed and leaned against the cool stone wall, scanning the interior of the long worn down building. Inquisition banners were sprawled out across the far wall, along with small makeshift privacy screens between each bed. Which had been made at the request of Liz.

The torchlight flickered, setting the room in a warm glow. It was quiet, aside from the soft puffs of breath or the occasional snore from the Luckless Scout.

Liz was stuck alone with her thoughts. Which was never a good thing. She tended to overthink things. What had happened in the Main Hall? Her chest had exploded in pain. She'd thought it was stress. Not only that, but she'd been feeling things that she somehow knew weren't her own feelings. Hearing things, which seemed like auditory hallucinations at first.

But it had been Cole. Cole's thoughts. Or… something of the sort. He'd been unconsciously relaying certain things to her. His guilt. His pain. She could hear it all, like a whisper in the wind. At the time, she hadn't understood it. She didn't know him that well, so couldn't connect the dots.

It always seemed to loop back to him.

She scrunched her brows. Even now, she could faintly feel the tickle in the back of her mind. She seemed to almost instinctively know where he was.

Speaking of. He was getting out of bed right that moment. It was barely morning and he needed to get a full 8 hours, at least. Liz suppressed the urge to growl, _'You'd better lay back down you-'_

He paused, as if he'd heard her. Only to continue on his shuffle out of the room.

' _Great. Am I stuck with him being able to hear me at all times? Or maybe me hearing him sometimes? I'm going to think I'm going insane! I already think I'm going insane!'_ Liz screeched inwardly, resisting the rising need to pull out her hair. _'How can he handle this? Wait, why am I even able to hear_ _him? Is it a mage thing? No… it's too weird. Athras never mentioned...'_

Liz continued her inner monologuing, cleaning up as she finished her portion of the shift. It wasn't very long until one of the other healers came in to relieve her. Sweet sweet freedom. Even though by that point she was beat tired from staying up all night. Ahhh… night shifts.

The young woman stepped out into the fresh mountain air, taking a deep calming breath. ' _I just need to calm down. Don't think about it. Later. I'll ask later.'_

It wasn't the best way to deal with things, but—wait. Liz's eyes narrowed as someone came stumbling around the corner of the Herald's Rest. It was nearly dawn as the sky slowly began to lighten. The fortress was drowned in a deep hue of blue as the figure stumbled up to her as she continued to walk.

She'd been hoping that they would ignore her, but her luck was never that good.

"He-Hey. You." The middle-aged man slurred, his finger pointing at the little mage. She pointed at herself as if to ask, 'me?'. "Yes, you."

"Can I help you?"

"Yer th-the gud fer nothin' witch that—blerghbrlb-" He continued to speak, his words hard to decipher. She could have sworn she heard 'knife ear' and 'cock block'. That's when Liz recognized the man as the one that had been harassing Serana. The man she'd intended to pants but accidentally sent them bursting to tatters.

"Look, I would apologize but you were being a complete knucklehead." She crossed her arms, hoping that he would just turn around and go away.

"Don't you talk to me that way, bitch!" He went in to swing but she stepped aside, his body moving slowly as he stumbled passed her. The stench of cheap ale and sweat permeated off of the dude as he turned. She expected anger, but she saw smugness. Smug? She was in the middle of tilting her head in confusion when-

' _ **Crack!'**_

Liz's vision went white and blurry as the world shook and twirled. She fell to the ground with a loud, _**'Thump!'**_ Her body crunched into the cold ground, rocks and bits of dirt getting stuck in her shoulder as she slid.

"Hah! Serves ya right!"

A distraction? That cheeky little-

"Oy, did I git er?"

"Yeh, what should we do with 'er? I hear she's a Witch of the Wilds, like in them stories." He hiccuped and Liz groaned from her spot on the ground, her little hand grasping the back of her pounding skull. Her brown eyes zeroed in on the two people above her, one of which was holding a wooden board of some sort.

She lifted her hand away and looked at her fingers. She could even feel the blood starting to seep through and soak her strands. Great.

Liz knew of the rumors going around about some people in Skyhold thinking she was a Witch of the Wilds. Whatever that meant. Just a wild mage, she assumed. They weren't terribly wrong, if she were to think about it objectively. She did, in fact, learn how to control her magic from nature. And her Hahren.

"No, you gotta be shittin'. She ain't no witch."

"Haven't you heard the rumors, you idjit?" The drunkard yelled at the man with the wooden board. He looked unamused.

"Are you serious? I thought you wanted to get back at me for tearing your breeches but really? A Witch of the Wilds?" Liz sneered from her spot on the ground, her fingers clenching in anger. "Does your arm hurt? Because you're really reaching there, buddy."

"Shut up!" He turned and kicked her, sending her rolling in the dirt. The little woman didn't even get any time to react and that was when she realized he wasn't as drunk as she thought he was initially. Liz was stuck laying on her back, watching the walls and tops of the buildings spin.

"F—crap." Liz sputtered, feeling blood dribble out of her mouth. Her jaw felt like it was set on fire as she clenched her eyes. "Ow ow ow..."

"Leave her alone!" A familiar voice rang from her side. Unsurprisingly, Cole put himself between the trio as he stood above her.

"Who the heck're you?"

"You won't hurt her. I won't let you." He sounded resolute as she turned her head to look at him. The fierce look in his eyes and how his mouth twitched into a disdainful frown. He looked like he wanted to carve them to pieces as he held out one of his daggers menacingly.

Liz could hear the two men squabble between one another before they scampered off, evidently thinking better of the situation.

Cole turned and knelt next to her, his fingers coming up to touch her jaw. The anger in his blue eyes seemed to nearly dissipate when he came closer, softly caressing the side of her face.

"I'm fine, Cole." She tried to reassure, pushing herself into a seated position.

"You always say that! 'I'm fine.' But you say that when you're not fine!" He sounded upset as he fretted over her. She turned and frowned, wiping away the blood from her mouth. She could already feel the huge bruise that was going to form on the side of her face.

"I still haven't forgiven you for making me forget about you, you know." Liz spoke through clenched teeth, "We're still friends, but I need you to know that I'm really fu—I'm really pissed about what you did."

She remembered. She remembered it all. He'd even done it while he was Despair. Back when she was bathing.

The thought caused her cheeks to redden. He'd likely only done it to make her feel uncomfortable, which was what Despair had wanted. To prove to her that he didn't care about how she felt. Didn't care about her boundaries.

"I-I'm sorry! I panicked, I—I." Cole's face burned bright, cheeks reddening an even darker shade than her own. He lowered his head, as if to try and hide it underneath his giant floppy hat. "There was so much, all at once." His hand came up to rest upon his chest, fingers clasping at his shirt. As if remembering.

Liz could feel it, then. What he felt. Resonating—again.

"So… it's you."

"Me?"

"I can hear you. Feel you." Liz stared at him, focusing inward. Trying to understand. But she couldn't. She just couldn't. This should be out of the realm of possibility. "Why...why does it feel like you're calling out to me?"

He seemed to think for a moment, minutes maybe. Cole slowly regained his composure as he schooled his features, looking up at his friend.

"Your Grandma was a nice lady. I didn't remember until Despair came. He—I-I knew, then. Your friend on Earth. It was me. I heard you calling for me, whispering to the little spirits near the lake with your grandmother. So gentle. So kind. We liked you." His blue eyes seemed to drift as he remembered and as he kept speaking, Liz could feel her brain threatening to stop. "You were so very small and fragile. I wanted to protect you. To save you from him. The Nightmare."

So … she wasn't just seeing things when she was a child. The floating lights and the 'spirits' in her dreams. Her imaginary friend in the waking world, as her mother had called it. Her grandmother had always encouraged it and taught her how to properly commune with the spirits without hurting them. Without inviting the wrong ones in.

Even back then…

Everything seemed to slowly begin to click into place as she processed this information. The similarities. How he'd saved her from the Nightmare before Adamant had practically screamed the truth. But she didn't see it. How she could _feel_ him smile, just like she could her friend. I mean, who the hell can _feel_ those things? It wasn't normal.

None of this was normal.

Then again, Liz stopped being normal long ago. That, unfortunately, didn't explain how she got into this world. She had a feeling she'd never have that answer.

"Twinkling, twirling—traveling through the Fade. Even back then. Back at home. You were special, our little light."

"That name..." That's the name they'd called her. Her friend. The white figure. Brown eyes locked onto blue, unable to look away. It all seemed to make sense, then. It felt as if he could feel her coming to that conclusion, because he nodded his head ever so slightly. Confirming.

The things he'd said—

' _He can't hurt you. He won't.'_

' _H-How do you know?'_

' _I won't let him.'—_

' _And I felt him smile.'—_

 _Blinding light, Demon!Elise and Demon!Erin disappearing. A beach. He was the one—_

"Jesus Christ." Liz put her hand to her mouth, her mind reeling. How could she have been so blind? How could she not have seen all of the signs until now? Was she really that dense?

All those times, they weren't coincidences. All of the times that she thought Cole seemed eerily familiar with the things he said and did.

Cole simply sat there as she sputtered. He didn't say a thing, simply watched as she regained her bearings. Watched as she stumbled up, despite the way the world seemed to shift from her dizziness. Watched as she nearly tripped as she hastily made her way into the Main Hall and away from him.

He said nothing.

Neither did she.

* * *

It took time, processing that kind of information. Time for her brain to fully realize how dense she'd been. For so long. There'd been many hints thrown and waved in front of her face. Heck, she'd even felt him on occasion unlike how she's felt other people's intentions. It was all just so… confusing.

Liz, for the longest time, couldn't get over how she'd been so inexplicably drawn to the lanky rogue. How familiar he seemed to be, despite their hairy and dark past. How comforting he was to be around. Like reuniting with an old friend, yet not.

It was because, even during her time on Earth she'd been friends with him. Some how some way. Granted, he wasn't the same as he was back then by any means. He wasn't merely Compassion nor was he Cole. He was some jumbled mix of the two. He was… himself. Part of him had been her friend, back then. But another part of him hadn't. Two separate entities at one point, but now he was this. What made him … well, him.

She realized that, now.

It all seemed rather cliché, now that she thought about it. He was technically a childhood 'friend' that she currently had a romantic interest in. Even though things were quite complicated as of late.

Liz snorted and picked at her furs, listening to her brother idly chat about what they were planning to do. She hadn't heard much of it, but he usually ranted about his responsibilities anyway. Didn't really need any input, most of the time.

"What do you think?"

Unfortunately, now was not one of those times.

' _Shit.'_

"Uh… yes?" She answered, in hopes that he wouldn't realize she wasn't even listening to a word he'd said. It was getting later in the day by that point and she still hadn't gotten proper sleep.

"Seriously? You _and_ Cassandra? You guys are plotting behind my back, I swear." Max groaned and put his palm against his face. He then grumbled a, "I hate dealing with nobles. You know, you used to side with me on these things."

Ah. Well, at least she happened to agree with Cassandra. She was sensible, at least. Lucky shot.

"Sorry, bro. Gotta grow up sometime and dance the dance. Talk the talk." She was getting better at this.

"And play The Game, yeah yeah. I get it. Doesn't mean I have to like it..." He mumbled the last sentence as they came upon the Herald's Rest. A young dwarven woman was standing near the entrance of the building, looking absolutely flabbergasted. Max greeted her jovially, "Oh, hey there scout Harding. How've things been going?"

She turned her beautiful freckled face up toward her brother, mouth pinched in worry. The little mage stretched as Harding answered.

"That strange boy just went by... With an armful of chickens. Y-you're looking after him, right?" She asked hesitantly, eyes squinting ever so slightly. This caused Liz to pause in her stretching and look over at her curiously.

Strange, huh? The only person she knew that was strange enough to carry around an armful of chickens?

"Cole..." Both Liz and Maxwell sighed at the same time. He certainly had an odd way with going about helping people, that was for sure. But his heart was in the right place, so the two of them never faulted him. Even if there were sometimes misunderstandings.

Without even a second thought, Liz began to walk in the direction Harding had looked. The thought of encountering him after learning of their past(s) made her feel nauseous. Not in a horrible way, by any means. Liz wasn't sure how to feel about the situation at hand, if she were to be honest.

Her feet crunched against the gravel as she entered the lower courtyard, eyes scanning for her hat-loving-friend.

What would he even be doing with so many—wait. Brown eyes locked onto a lanky form near the outside entrance to the kitchens, along with the distinct sound of yelling and distressed chicken sounds. They clucked and cawed, flapping about as they were shooed out, along with their resident awkward spirit.

Liz simply stood there near the well in stunned silence, taking in the situation at hand.

"Go on! Git!" The older woman screeched, flapping her apron at Cole and sending bits of dough and flour fluffing into the air. He slunk away, looking dejected.

"Uh…. Cole?" She spoke up as he got closer, causing him to snap his attention toward her. Liz crossed her arms and smirked, "What were you doing?"

"The cooks needed more eggs." The young rogue fidgeted, his fingers picking at the frayed ends of his longsleeve. His blue eyes seemed to dart away from her brown ones, denoting his embarrassment.

"So…. You brought them chickens?" She asked.

"That wasn't right." He answered, as if just now realizing it. "It's hard now. Harder to hear, to see. But I can learn."

Liz sighed and grabbed him by the hand, leading him back to the chicken coop. "I would assume you would know where to get the eggs since you tried to eat them raw during your first week being human." She commented offhandedly.

"No… they were in the kitchen. They come from chickens, but—"

"In here." Liz stopped in front of the chicken coop, which was near the stables. The door opened with a loud creak, causing some of the chickens to begin clucking at the sudden appearance of a new human. The little mage let out a soothing coo, "It's okay, guys. I'm just here with a friend."

The clucking seemed to die down a bit, leaving the duo in relative silence as she stepped up. She sighed and held out her hand, leading him into the small chicken coop. Liz pushed a lock of her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear as she walked up to the boxes that the hens were in.

They were brown, some of them spotted and white. The chickens were a range of all kinds of different colors. Some of them observed from their boxes, heads shifting side to side. Watching. She pointed at the eggs.

"The hens lay eggs here and usually the cooks assistants come and collect them during the day." She explained, grabbing one of the brown freckled eggs from one of the empty boxes. "They bring baskets and carry them up to the kitchens to use."

It was a simple way to show him how to collect the eggs in the future. Liz knew that adjusting to this world wasn't easy, by any means. Especially since things worked vastly different there than in the Fade.

"But aren't there baby chickens inside of the eggs?" Cole sounded horrified. Probably just now realizing that they were, in fact, the hen's offspring.

Or, would be.

"These chicken eggs are unfertilized, since the hens here are kept without roosters. They're just used for food, basically." She explained with a small smile, "So you don't have to worry about that, Cole. We wouldn't eat baby chickens."

The little mage held out the egg, watching as he stared down at it. He didn't take the egg from her hand. Rather, he held her cupped hands between his own and ran his thumb across it curiously. His mouth opened and closed, as if to speak. But nothing came out. His brow furrowed.

Liz tilted her head slightly, wondering if he had a question about something.

"It has freckles, like you. They're… pretty." He commented, his cheeks flushing slightly at the comment. His hands shook as his fingers left her hand to brush against her cheek. It seemed he was finding every excuse to touch her, as of late. Not that she minded.

Liz's eyes snapped up and met his, her legs wobbling as her heart sped up. The warmth of his palm seeped into her skin, making her flush. Fingers threading into her hair. Heart thumping relentlessly.

Why was he leaning forward? His face was getting so close. Cole's blue eyes were half lidded and she felt herself doing the same.

Liz panicked inwardly, but didn't ... She didn't want him to stop.

"Erin!?" Maxwells voice echoed outside of the chicken hut. The small Mage let out a squeak and clenched her hands.

 _ **'Crick'**_

Cole disappeared, right in front of her. She could even see the shimmer of his semi-transparent form as he slowly slinked off into the corner of the coop.

"Erin, did you find-" he walked into the building and looked at her oddly. Her face was flushed and hair disheveled. "Cole."

"Erm..." That was when she noticed that her hands felt wet. And slimy. "Y-yes."

"Are you feeling alright? Why do you have... Why did you waste an egg like that?" He asked and she let out a sound akin to a groan and a sigh. Liz flicked bits of slime and yolk from her hands.

She faintly noticed Cole's outline as he tried to sneak passed Maxwell and out of the small hut. Unfortunately the older Trevelyan seemed to have keen eyes, especially since his blind eye had been miraculously healed during that incident at Adamant Fortress.

Just as the rogue was about to make a stealthy retreat, Maxwell's hand shot out and hit the frame of the door with a loud

' _ **THUD!'**_

He effectively blocked the way, his eyes trailing off of his little sister and onto the taller man.

"Hey there, buddy. Where do you think _you're_ going?" He gave him an unnervingly friendly smile.

Cole came out of stealth, face flushed as he stared back at the Inquisitor. Liz blinked and wiped the remnants of the egg off on her fur pelt, eying the two oddly.

"I-I was just...I was—eggs!" Cole nearly seemed to shrink into himself under his gaze. Evidently something happened between the two and Max wasn't all too happy with the young man.

"Wow." Liz snorted, noticing her friend's face, "You're really red."

"I'm not red, I'm Cole." Was his awkward answer, eyes darting nervously.

Liz sighed, resisting the urge to slam her head into the wall. "Well… I'll leave you guys to it."

She shuffled passed, slowly creeping her way away from the chicken coop. _'What was that about?'_

A few sharp barks later and a slamming of the chicken coop door, her brother left stomping away toward the stone staircase leading to the upper courtyard. Chickens were clucking frantically as the door was reopened, revealing a flustered Cole.

"You alright there, Cole?"

"Yes." He answered, fingers twining with one another as he approached, "Your brother is mad at me."

"I would ask… but I feel it's probably not my business anyway." She drawled, resisting the urge to demand an answer. Sometimes things were better left alone.

"He knows… about you forgetting, that is. His anger is simmering, but at least it isn't boiling. Like before. When he found out." The lanky rogue let out a quivering sigh, "I don't like it when my friends are angry at me. I'm sorry, Liz. I didn't mean…. I didn't-"

"It's… okay. I forgive you." She spoke softly, "I shouldn't. I would normally be angry for a long time, since I'm prone to holding grudges. But I know how you can be. I know you didn't do it out of malicious intent."

He stared at her, surprised.

"…. really?"

"Yes, really." Her eyes seemed to soften, again. "Just… promise me that you'll talk to me if you feel like that, again. I don't want you to feel like you have to do that."

He nodded, the tenseness of his shoulders seemingly loosening at her words. Liz' stomach fluttered and she fidgeted, wanting to make him feel better—but.

Hell, why not.

Live in the moment, Elise would have said. So she did. Liz grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down to give him a small peck on the cheek. She pulled away just in time to see his eyes widen into saucers, his hand flying to his face where she'd smooched him. A deep red blush crept up both of their necks as they turned away simultaneously.

"Er—I—I have things to-" Liz stuttered and skittered away, intent on doing whatever it was she was supposed to be doing. Leaving the rogue to his thoughts.

* * *

 _(The Next Morning…)_

"And you should have seen yourself! You were riding a frigging dragon, Kyle!" Jade was waving her arms animatedly as she relayed the story to the incapacitated man. He grunted in what sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "I don't even know how you survived, eh? Did anyone fill ya in on what happened?"

Another grunt, which Jade seemed to understand. Liz continued to idly flip through the pages at the desk, not really reading. But listening. She was beginning to feel the exhaustion, but trudged onward. She had, afterall, volunteered to take the night shift.

Liz knew a little bit about what happened and it didn't bode well for the world. To put it simply. The Inquisitor had been able to close the rift, but not without many casualties. Any Wardens that sided with them and decided to help were either dead or had disappeared. They'd been driven out by the demons and possessed mages.

Pieces of the Nightmare demon had entered the physical world, somehow. With their numbers dwindling, they hadn't been able to face it head on.

That, and the icing on the cake? More rifts were opening up across Thedas. Mostly in those areas, to be fair. But it was spreading like a plague. And a cherry on top. Maxwell was also expected to stop an assassination from happening. Empress Celene's life was in danger and they were going to attend her God's forsaken Ball.

 _ **A Ball.**_

Even though the world was thrown into turmoil, the Orlesians still wanted to have their damn Ball. Liz was absolutely baffled by it. How could they have their heads so far up their asses and be so blind to what was going on around them? The world was literally ripping apart at its seams and they wanted to dance and play a game.

"What the fuck." She said, causing the duo at her left to pause. Jade had quieted down.

"What's wrong, shorty?" The dwarf turned to her and asked, looking genuinely concerned.

"Nothing." She lied, "There's just so much paperwork to do here. It seems to have piled up since Serana left. Where is she, anyway?"

The dwarf almost seemed to have frozen in her spot. She turned and her green eyes connected with Liz's brown ones. She spoke, almost hesitantly, "You don't know?"

"What don't I know?"

"They're saying she's an abomination. She's in the prison cells, right now. Has been since we got back."

"…...What?" Liz asked through gritted teeth.

* * *

 **Cole**

People always talked about falling in love. It was not something that he had ever thought he himself would one day ponder. He knew that he loved his friends. Dearly. He cared deeply about them. Would do anything for them. That wasn't something new, since he'd felt such things even before he knew what he was.

What was it, then, to care about someone in a romantic sense? What did it feel like? Was it as wondering—wistful as most made it out to be? Did it hurt? Would it?

No, he decided. No, it did not hurt.

He thought this as he watched the angered little woman rip into her brother of this world. Her words, doing more damage than any sword could. Words sometimes held more weight than anything physical in this world. Yet actions themselves could even outweigh any words. It was confusing.

They were in the War Room, a heated discussion taking place in front of him as he sat behind the Trevelyan's silently. Light streamed in through the windows, hitting the Commander's hair and causing it to glow with flicks of gold. He leaned forward after he was done speaking his piece, his honey eyes zeroed in on his tiny mage friend.

After the Inquisitor didn't object his proposal, which had been to either exile Serana from Skyhold or expel the spirit from her—effectively killing her in the process.

"- _-I'm sorry?_ I didn't know we turned on our own people now, _Inquisitor_." Liz snapped out his title like it was venom. Clearly furious about their propositions. Serana and Hope had never hurt anyone. Didn't intend to. Which was why he was initially called to the War Room.

"Whether it's a person or not is debatable, you must-" Cullen was about to explain his reasoning when he was cut off by a rather loud crashing noise. The wood from the table in the middle of the room cracked and splintered through the middle, sending books and trinkets flying. Liz's fist slowly raised, leaving a charred mark in its place.

"Choose your next words wisely, Commander." Liz's tone was dark. Darker than Cole ever remembered it being. "This woman that you call an 'it' just so happened to save men and women alike with this gift of hers. She is an accomplished healer and has done nothing but good for the Inquisition." The little woman's eyes widened, "Oh, and didn't she also relieve some of your own pain? _Or have you conveniently forgotten?_ "

Cole tensed from beside his friend when the Commander appeared to get even angrier at her comment. Especially when she brought it up. Sometimes he still heard The Song, calling and tempting him back. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. He would never.

"She is an abomination." Cullen spoke, as if speaking to a child. _'She doesn't know what she's talking about. She's never seen what I've seen. Naive. Childish. She'll get us all killed.'_ Cole heard. Memories of fire and screams filled the Once-Spirit's mind. Though not as potent as it used to be. He could feel the terror attached to them. He was about to make a comment about her not knowing about abominations and what they can do to people, but Cole spoke before he could.

"She does. She knows. Talking about it hurts. She doesn't know about The Song. She didn't know that it hurt, too." He tried to clarify, trying to ease some of the tension in the room. If it escalated any further, it may have turned into a physical confrontation.

Cullen sighed, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. They'd been arguing for a good ten minutes until now. Mostly it was the Commander and Liz. Maxwell had been torn. But not anymore.

"I've decided." The few who were in the room looked to the Inquisitor, who had his hand underneath his chin. "Cassandra, could you bring Serana to the War Room please?"

The short haired woman nodded and left the room. The wooden door clicked shut, leaving the rest in awkward silence. Liz stared regretfully down at the cracked War Table and books that had been victim to her outburst. Cullen was standing straighter than normal, his eyes refusing to meet hers. Leliana, as per usual, seemed to blend into the background.

She'd been able to acquire bits and pieces of her past with her connections. It had been difficult, since she was dalish. But not impossible from the Spymaster.

When they came back, Solas was with them. He'd been visiting and insisted on being there for the fidgety elf. The door shut behind them and Cole's eyes zeroed in on Serana. The silvery haired woman's face was red, eyes darting around nervously. She was under the scrutiny of too many for her liking.

But that wasn't all. Something was wrong. Cole began to get worried, seeing as how she was paler than normal. "Are you sick?"

"S-S-Sorry. N-No I am okay, Cole. T-thank you for your concern."

"She just woke up. Why the meeting so early in the morning?" Solas questioned.

"I was just recently informed of Serana's predicament and thought that it should get sorted out as soon as possible." Liz answered without a beat.

Maxwell nodded at the younger Trevelyan's statement, "Serana, I've called you here to hear your side of the story. If you're going to be working for the Inquisition, I'm sure you'll understand that I need to take extra security measures to ensure the safety of those in Skyhold. Yes?"

"I-I understand, Inquisitor." She stuttered.

"Inquisitor—you can't be serious."

"I am." He turned to look at the ex-templar, "Erin made a convincing argument. If she were to be a danger, she would have already posed a threat. I need to hear what she has to say."

"And if she is?"

"Then we cut her down." Leliana spoke all too readily. Cole could see Liz flinch at the comment.

It took a few moments before the young elf opened her mouth, her hands clammy. As she relayed her story about her and Hope joining, Cole felt a pull. Something from within her reached out to him and he reached back, curious. Almost instinctively. His senses were overloaded with everything all at once, his body froze in place. Hope—

* * *

A memory of a little silvery haired elf popped forth. She was so happy and cheerful. Plagued with dreams, hunted. Alone. But Hope was there. Protecting her. Keeping the demons away. She showed talent at such a young age.

Then one fateful night, the clan was raided by a rather large group of bandits. Serana, who was around 14 years old at the time, awoke to the screams of her Clan brethren. She jumped out of bed and swiftly grabbed her staff. Everything was blurry around her, but the image of the teenage Serana was crisp and clear. Cole was Hope, flitting and fluttering around her physical form. Following her from the Fade in this memory.

Panicked, the little elf began to look for her mother and the Clan children. That's all that mattered to her. Fire roared in the background, signaling the demise of their aravels. Their attackers were barking out orders and the Clan's warriors fought back despite the odds.

She bobbed and ducked, keeping out of sight as she made her way to where the children usually played.

Then came the screams. Oh Creators, the screams. Who in their right mind would kill _children_? What kind of sick bastards were these people?

As Serana was about to enter the aravel, a bandit was sent careening out of the entrance. With a girlish shriek and a sickening crack as he hit a nearby tree, he was dead. She flinched at the sight of the mangled man, eyes darting toward her destination.

"M-Mamae!" She called as she barged inside. Deshanna was standing in a corner with her staff out, hand outstretched as she faced the doorway. As fierce as any warrior. Behind her stood most of the children, shaken. "You must leave, Mamae. Where is father?"

"Help me get them out of the camp, Da'len." She answered in a rushed tone, ignoring her question.

"But-"

"Now!"

"Fenedhis." She cursed under her breath, ignoring the scolding look her mother gave her as they began to file out the front door. Her mother took point, sending fireballs and force magics at the enemies. Some were catapulted into nearby aravels, which were on fire. Others were burned to a charred crisp.

Unfortunately for Serana, she had been separated from the small group after thinking she saw her father amongst the fighting warriors. With them nowhere in sight, her distraction proved to be a fatal mistake.

A laugh broke out from behind her, causing her to whip around with widened eyes. Her hand was halfway outstretched before she felt the cool metal pressed against her soft throat.

"Nuh uh. Ya ain't goin' nowhere." A scraggly man in leather armor grinned down at her. He towered over her and smelled of booze and soot. Serana knew for certain that the blood upon him was not his own, and it only seemed to fuel her anger.

"Yer pretty cute fer a knife ea-" He was cut off as she knocked the sword away from her neck, a burning pain erupted from her arm as she was sliced open. Hot liquid oozed from the cut as she turned to try and flee. She was cut short as her hair was grabbed roughly, causing her body to flip and dangle in his grip.

"L-Let me go!" Serana called, but her cries were for naught. The battle around her proved to be too loud, too hectic as her screams were drowned out.

"Not worth it." He growled. And with that, she knew the feeling of a blade being plunged through her torso. Serana opened her mouth to gasp, but blood was the only thing that came out as she began to choke.

The memory of Hope swaying side to side frantically pulled at something within Cole. The little teen's body fell onto the unforgiving ground.

' _Nono! No! Serana! Serana!'_ They yelled, but their words fell upon deaf ears. The blood was pooling beneath her. A deadly waterfall that soaked the dirt.

During her last moments, Serana was facing the sky and bleeding out. The bandit apparently decided it would be best to let the 'savage' suffer alone as her family died around her.

 _'Is this really it?'_ She thought weakly, the thought echoing through the Veil. Hope heard it. Tears pooled in the woman's eyes. She was remembering her family, her parents. Her clan. The only thing that ever mattered to her, dying around her. She only hoped, hoped to the Creators, that the children had gotten out okay.

 _'Keep them safe.'_ Her last thoughts, her last wishes, connected with Hope. Hoping for safety, hoping for more, hoping—but never hoping for herself.

Even then, she would at least die knowing she tried. She really tried.

"No." A voice, not male nor female, rang through the air.

* * *

"I should have died that day..." Serana explained, tears falling freely down her face. Cole was slowly regaining his wits as the memory washed away like a receding tide. His breaths were quick and shallow. Hope showed him that for a reason. _'Help'_ they seemed to say. "Hope has only ever helped. They've never been malicious in nature. Solas c-can account for that. I didn't fully realize Hope was there until the darkspawn attacked my camp years later. It…. It was terrifying. But they helped. They've _only ever helped._ "

"So Solas knew?"

She seemed to peer toward the bald man, who nodded, "Y-Yes. He did."

"Hope helped heal. After Haven. In Skyhold. After Adamant." Cole explained, crossing his arms and curling into himself. "I saw, they showed me. Serana isn't lying."

"You know that your connection to this being could potentially be dangerous to us all? Yet you said nothing?" Cullen frowned.

"And what would she have said? What could she have told you that would have changed anything?" Solas spoke up for the young woman, eyes hardening as he stared down the Commander. "She would have been imprisoned, if not outright killed."

Cullen was about to comment when Maxwell put up his hand, nipping it in the bud. "Alright, look. We will keep her under watch, indefinitely. She's done nothing but help this entire time. We already let a spirit join the Inquisition…. what's another one going to do?"

"You-"

"Thank you! I will try my best not to disappoint!" Serana's small voice rang throughout the war room. Her pale face was flushed, eyes wide and full of tears. "I-I'm sorry for not saying anything! I-I w-was _scared_." She squeaked.

"As any of us would have been..." Liz tried to speak softly, but it came out clipped.

* * *

 **Liz**

Nearly everyone had left by the time she was done sorting through the things she'd toppled over during her fit of childish rage. She wasn't usually one to let that happen, but when it came to her friends she tended to get a little overprotective.

Especially since she didn't see Serana as necessarily bad, by any means. She may turn out to be more of a liability later on if the situation called for it, but she didn't think that it would happen. It would have happened back at Adamant, if anything.

The way Liz saw it, she was helping the Inquisition more than she was harming it at this point. And as long as she was under strict observation, it shouldn't turn out to be an issue.

She sighed as she put the papers atop the War Table, her eyes traveling up as the last person left the room. Or, so she thought. Solas and Cole stood near the door, looking over at her expectantly.

Probably waiting for her?

"There are some things that I wished to speak to you about, Erin." Solas spoke up from in front of the door, his hand waving and his mana welling up. A spell of some sort. Probably a deafening spell. Instantly she felt on edge. He turned, arms positioned behind his back. As he usually did when he was thinking or observing things. "Or would you prefer that I call you Liz?"

At that, even the once-spirit snapped his attention toward the apostate—completely surprised.


	23. Well, Shit

"Well, Shit"

"There are some things that I wished to speak to you about, Erin." Solas spoke up from in front of the door, his hand waving and his mana welling up. A spell of some sort. Probably a deafening spell. Instantly she felt on edge. He turned, arms positioned behind his back. As he usually did when he was thinking or observing things. "Or would you prefer that I call you Liz?"

Cole and Liz both froze at the sound of that sentence.

His steely eyes met hers and in that moment it felt like she froze. Like her veins turned to ice at the sound of someone other than Cole using her real name. She took a step back, eyes wide in terror. The light pouring in from the windows in the War Room seemed to make the angles of his face more pronounced, making him look intimidating. The way he was looking over at her, like she were prey about to be picked apart.

' _Oh God. Oh God, Oh God.'_

Her hands found purchase upon a shelf near the window, which was sending nearly blinding rays of morning sunlight dashing in through the grated glasswork. The young woman seemed paralyzed, unable to form coherent thoughts as she stared the elf down.

Cole, much to his credit, was absolutely silent for a change. He had backed away from the bald apostate, staring him down as if he were trying to get a read on him. So Liz knew that he wasn't the one that had told him, if his surprise had been anything to go by.

"… Wh-What is it that you needed to talk to me about, Solas?" She spoke almost warily, her hands coming up and fiddling with the ends of her fur cloak. Cole and Liz seemed to exchange glances for a few beats. It appeared as though, even now, her anxiety and confusion was reflecting back into the spirit-turned-human. How? She still wasn't sure.

But he was definitely more on edge than usual.

"Cole came to me with an interesting revelation, if you don't mind my addressing it first? Then we can speak in regards to your… actual name." Solas took a step forward, positioning himself in front of the War Table. Liz remained still on the other side of the room, safe by the bookshelves. She looked around, thinking of ways to bolt in case the need arose. She could certainly throw herself out the window and transform mid-fall, if need be. But… That was a risk.

That and what about Cole? Would Solas hurt Cole? No. This was _Solas_! He was their friend. Right? With that thought, she tried to calm her nerves. _'Deep breaths, Liz. Deep breaths.'_

"Uuuuuhhhhhhh, I m-mean, you warded the door right?" The little woman was at a loss for words. Solas has always been a good friend and looked out for her when she needed it. She shouldn't be so worried, right?

The doubt still gnawed in the back of her mind.

"Cole has informed me of a recent development in … your senses?" He seemed at a loss for how to word it without giving away what he was about to reveal. The thought made Liz's eyebrow twitch. Why couldn't he ever come out and just say it?

"Yes." But, what was happening to her… would he think she was crazy? Or an abomination? Her head lowered, "I don't know how to describe it, Solas." Fear crossed her features as she looked down at her hands, "But … I think something is happening to me. I don't-"

"Changes? What kinds of changes? Do you notice a shift in your thinking? Your mood?" His tone was swift, sharp. Liz's gaze snapped up to him. He seemed tense, unsure. He was asking the same questions he'd asked Cole at times.

Huh. How odd.

"What? No. I can just … I hear Cole. I can _feel_ him. Where he is. Sometimes even what he's feeling." She explained hastily, "Solas, did you _know_ something about this? Why didn't you come to me? We could have spoken and I wouldn't have been so terrified. Wait, _should_ I be terrified? What's going on?"

After that, his brow seemed to loosen and rose as if he came to a conclusion.

"Ah, I see." His sharp tone had melted into calmness, nearly giving her whiplash, "Calm, _ma falon._ I think I know what is going on."

Almost as if he hadn't been on the verge of panic but seconds ago. It made Liz think, _'How much_ does _he know?'_

She'd have to analyze this situation later and try to pick it apart. There had to be something she wasn't seeing, because it almost seemed like they were both thinking of different things just seconds ago. Or maybe it was just her imagination.

He must have picked up on her suspicion, because his expression flattened. Almost as if he'd put on a mask. She turned to Cole curiously, who was simply examining the two of them.

"Sorrow … singing, sadness resonating within. You felt what I felt. I was scared, too! And it _hurt_ you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." Cole spoke, his hands fiddling with themselves as he tried to hunch inward. He could have easily towered over the elf, but he was slouched and was about the same height. Liz blinked slowly.

"Cole..." Solas and Liz both spoke at the same time. Liz allowed the older man to continue, "You didn't try to break it, did you? This…. 'thread' you spoke of?"

"Y-Yes, I … I thought maybe..."

"You mustn't do that, again. Do you understand me?" Solas sounded ominous, the way he was speaking. It wasn't making the little mage feel any better about the situation. "My apologies, Elizabeth I-"

"You've got to be kidding me." Liz snorted. She realized that he did, in fact, know her real name. How? She wasn't sure. She was just trying to push aside the building dread that was forming in the pit of her stomach. Hoping to whatever deity was watching that he wouldn't tell anyone.

"It _is_ your name, is it not?"

"No—I mean—yes. But-But." She stuttered, the fear seeping back into her bones. Like cold, clinging to her gut. He found out. He knew. Oh Gods, he knew. That's when she noticed her rogue friend freeze in place and stand up straight, towering at his full height over Solas.

For the first time in her life, she saw fury burning within Cole's pale blue eyes as they narrowed in on Solas. Liz didn't even have time to ask what was wrong before he spoke, a deep growl. "I told you that she said **no** , Solas."

Even Solas appeared surprised at his sudden shift in demeanor and seemed to recoil a bit at his aggressive tone. Cole took a step forward and pointed at him, his finger nearly jabbing the man in the chest.

"She trusted you and you did it anyway! Worried, wondering—waiting for her to come to you. She would have, could have. But she didn't. It was _her_ choice, Solas!" His hand swept to the side angrily, mouth screwed into a deep disappointed frown. Liz stood there, baffled. Confused.

Then it all clicked together.

"You've been poking around in my dreams?" She asked, almost hesitantly, trying really hard not to sound nearly as angry as she felt herself becoming. Hot, boiling fury was building up in her chest and spreading to her ears. This only seemed to feed into the young man in front of the elf.

But yet, at the same time she felt hurt. Betrayed, even. She trusted Solas and hadn't expected him to push her boundaries as he did. He always seemed the type to be respectful. What had she done to provoke him?

"He did. Was. Has been for awhile now. He hid it, even from me. Why? Why?" Cole nearly sounded hurt and Solas recognized it, too. Liz watched as he tried to put his hand on the spirit's shoulder, trying to calm him.

"I understand that you're angry, Cole but-" He was promptly cut off by Cole's steadily rising anger.

"No, Solas. You _don't_ understand." He snapped, pushing his hand off of his shoulder and stepping away. "You knew. I told you not to. _She_ told you not to. You knew it would hurt her, but you did it anyway. She's _real_. _She's people, too._ "

His last comment seemed to cause the older man's eyes to widen a fraction, before he schooled his features and nodded. "I apologize, but I would like the chance to explain myself. Please."

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to her." He looked away, making eye contact with Liz. Liz, for the most part, stood there silently and watched the altercation. Almost not believing what she was seeing. The elven apostate turned and bowed his head.

"My apologies, Liz. It was not my intention to hurt you, even though I admit I knew it would. But you must understand that I only did so out of worry for the wellbeing of the Inquisition and myself." He explained but it didn't seem to loosen the tension in the young mage's shoulders. "When Cole began to exhibit possessive behaviors after his … transformation … I noticed some inconsistencies. In my memories, if you will. When you stayed behind in the Hinterlands, I'd been particularly worried since Cole had disappeared. Granted I had suspicions before then, but that incident in particular caused me to act and do some digging." He began to pace, looking troubled, "I had not anticipated my discovery, however."

Liz bit the inside of her cheek, knowing what he was talking about. "Do you remember? What happened with your lost memory, that is."

"No, but I'd been able to glean the pertinent details through your dreams. You do not remember speaking to me in the Fade?" He paused, hands behind his back. Liz breathed a shaky sigh, trying to dig around in her mind. Fade? When?

"No. I'm not a Dreamer like you, Solas." She bit back then laughed shakily, "Are you sure it wasn't a demon just feeding you what you wanted to hear?"

He looked down at her with an almost condescending stare before it disappeared completely.

"Alright. Fine. Congratulations… You've caught me. What else do you want me to say about it?" She finally said after what felt like minutes. Her mind whirling. Thinking of ways to disappear into the night and never come back. This was it. This was the end. "Does that mean you're going to tell Maxwell who I am? Or, rather, who I am not?"

"Telling him would cause undue stress. You'd likely be killed, at that." She flinched at his words. He seemed to contemplate for a moment before continuing, "I will not lie, at first I was a bit … apprehensive. That you'd continued the facade even after so long. But, had I been in the same position I cannot say I wouldn't do the same thing. It is a tough situation, to be sure. Your intentions are not malicious in nature."

"It wasn't necessarily my choice…." Liz mumbled, knees feeling weak. She found an old rickety chair next to the table and plopped down, forehead falling into her hands. "I… I didn't ask for this to happen, Solas."

Her shoulders shook, as if the weight had been lifted. Someone other than Cole knew. Her other friend. Someone Liz has been slowly coming to trust. Even so, the fact that he dug around without her permission had her feeling wary. Angry. She knew little of him and didn't poke for information as long as he didn't. But she knew that he wasn't who he presented himself out to be. Almost like looking into a mirror, really.

She put on a facade and so did she. They were two of a kind, really. At least Cole didn't pretend to be the 'Real' Cole. He was himself.

Liz snorted at that thought. Cole was better, like that. Kinder. Understanding. A better person. Her? She was… selfish. She peered up at the apostate through her curtain of messy brown hair. And so was he. He was likely the same, in that aspect. Perhaps it wasn't fair of her to compare him to herself. But it was almost glaringly obvious the two were painfully similar in those regards.

"How much do you know?" She nearly whispered, refusing to admit tears were building up in her eyes.

"Past, vague like trying to sift through sludge. It hurt too much to pull at. But everything _here_ is solid, whole." Cole spoke, though instead of his soothing lilt he sounded clipped and upset. "He doesn't know everything."

Well, that was a relief. She stared at the young man and silently tried to relay her thanks, because she wasn't sure how she would have handled talking to him alone about this.

Cole side-eyed her as if he'd heard her and went back to glaring at Solas.

"He is right. I was only able to see what you told me was your apartment. The outside was the Fade, the Nightmare Demon's domain. I'm still not sure why you seem to be tethered to that spot. He seems to have a hold on you like nothing I've seen before." He explained, pacing in the small space provided. "But you're obviously not from here. You aren't Erin."

"Because I look different in my dreams." Liz finished, knowing how he'd figured it out. "I am going to ignore the fact that you invaded my privacy, for now. We can have a serious talk about that later. Onto more pertinent matters, why is it that Cole and I seem to have this … odd connection. I'm going to go on a limb and say it isn't normal. I'm not hurting him, am I? Is it serious?"

"It is serious, in the fact that you are bonded together-"

"He's _bound_ to me?" Her voice cracked as she stood up, chair clacking to the ground. Her heart sped up as fear gripped at her insides. How did this happen?

"No, not like that." Solas held up his hands, "A Soul Bond. Think of it as an invisible thread, of sorts. That connects the two of you. Though the Dalish practice a similar ritual, it is nothing like it used to be. From what I've gleaned in the Fade, it was how Elves used to bond for life."

Liz was silent for a few beats, before he continued.

"Essentially, they were bonded to one another until even after death. It was a serious consideration to take." He explained. His eyes slid over to the small form of Liz, who was staring at the two like she couldn't believe what she was even hearing. "That is what I theorize this demon is attempting to do to you right before Adamant. But you and Cole had already established one, as weak as it was. It may have even been there from the start, which is entirely possible. If rare. Almost unheard of, really."

Liz appeared to be getting pale at that point. "...Always there?" She blinked and then shook her head, "Wait, why wouldn't he just possess me like every other demon? Why try to bond? That doesn't make sense?"

At her many questions, his hands seemed to fold behind his back. Solas was going into lecture mode, she knew.

"There is certain steps one must take to effectively create a Soul Bond. Such magics were lost to the ages." He explained, grabbing the attention from both the young humans. "It was why I believe it was there to begin with, but simply grew stronger with extended proximity." When she didn't seem to calm down, he tried to placate the small mage. "It is nothing like being bound, Liz. A Bonded can never control the other. Your thoughts and feelings are your own. It will simply take awhile to distinguish between the two."

It didn't seem to help. He didn't even answer all of her damned questions, at that.

"What's happening. Why is this happening? How?" The questions poured out of her mouth, her hand yanked on the longer strands of hair at the side of her face. Liz couldn't stop her limbs from shaking. _'Elves did it? How in the Hell am I able to do it? Why? Why?'_

"Do I have to get used to having him in my head even more, now?" She asked, crossing her arms. The fear in her stomach still refused to subside as she sat underneath Solas' gaze.

"In time I am sure you will learn how to better utilize the Bond." Solas answered, bowing his head slightly. "If you ever need help. All you need to do is ask."

"No." Was her quick answer, brown eyes hardening as she stared him down. "Forgive me if I don't feel inclined to trust you after what you did. In time, I would have likely come to you about my predicament. But you've violated my privacy and my trust. It's going to take time to regain that." _'Hypocrite'_ , she hissed to herself. _'You cry about not trusting him but he shouldn't even trust you.'_ "For now, could you please… leave."

She really needed time to think. To process everything. She turned around and looked out the window toward the mountains, feeling her eyes well up with tears again. The fear dug into her gut like a knife, reminding her that she was walking a fine line.

If anyone found out. Anyone. She was **dead**. She knew it. He knew it.

"But-" She heard Solas try to push.

"Leave." Cole repeated for Liz, followed by the sound of rustling fabric and the door squeaking open. Then it shut with a soft, _'Click'._

Then came a quiet sigh, nearly as defeated as she felt. Honestly. She knew it was Cole, simply because she could feel him. Niggling in the back of her mind. Barely there.

"...Liz." He spoke softly from right behind her and she covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to let out any noise.

Solas had blackmail. She wasn't sure if he'd use it against her. Was he like that? Would he doom her to her death? No. He was her friend. She trusted him. Kind of. She just had to remember that.

"He wouldn't do that, Liz… don't worry."

"Y-You say that, even though you are angry with him?" She sniffled, choking back her tears and sobs that seemed to want to burst forth. Push it back. Push it back. She didn't pull away when he grabbed her jaw softly and had her look up at him, a stray tear rolling down her cheek.

The little woman nearly pulled away in embarrassment, but she remained. Remembering that he would never think less of her for being like this.

"He can't hurt you. He won't." He spoke in a soft lilting tone as he smiled, wiping away her sadness. Her fear. She felt safe with him near her. Like he could scare away the darkness, the bad. She shook, feeling the tension slowly leaving her body as he pressed his forehead against hers. The buzzing in her head seemed to quell, if even a little.

Liz closed her eyes, relishing in the moment, "How do you know?"

She could feel his breath, hot on her face. She dared not open her eyes or pull away. She didn't want to. Liz wanted this closeness to last forever.

Then, it was soft, just a brush of his lips against her own—but like static. Her heart nearly stuttered to a stop as he pulled her against him with his free hand, the heat of his body enveloping her like warmth from the sun.

The tears were pricking at the sides of her closed lids for a completely different reason, then. Cole pulled away, his breathing hitched—but Liz wouldn't have it. The little mage gripped the rogue's shirt desperately, pressing her lips against his. Soft and slow, to start. He seemed frozen in her grip, hands still.

Liz pulled back, brown eyes cracking open ever so slightly, taking in the soft look on his face. He hadn't even closed his eyes, staring down at her with that intent look of his. "….Cole?"

His answer was to murmur her name against her lips, returning with a more fervid kiss. Liz could feel it. Hear it, even. He wanted—no— _needed_ her to be closer to him.

She wasn't sure when it happened, but her back pressed against the bookcase near the window. A few things dropped, dull and hollow thuds against the stonework.

It wasn't long until the duo had to separate for air, noses touching and breathing intermingled. Blue eyes locked onto brown. Up close like that, they were so beautiful. A stunning shade of pale blue with flecks of silver. Liz, in all her life, had never seen such emotion within someone's eyes before. Perhaps that was why he hid underneath his hat or had such a curtain of hair.

She's certainly never seen someone look at her the way he looked at her.

The look in it of itself caused her stomach to do flips. Cole rubbed his nose against hers and smiled, "I won't let him hurt you. I wouldn't let anyone hurt you."

Liz buried her face into the crook of his neck and sighed, remembering how he stuck up for her just moments ago. The thought itself made her incredibly happy. She squeezed him, "Thank you...Cole. The same goes for you, you know?"

He grunted and squeezed back.

* * *

 **Cole**

Days passed by, but Cole found himself still upset at Solas for what he did to Liz. He didn't know why it bothered him for so long. It'd never happened before. Things have angered him, for sure. It seemed he experienced more of an emotional response to things since his change. The anger and irritation toward the way some of the nobles treated the mages and the elves. The irritation in general when he didn't sleep enough. Or the happiness and elation he felt around Liz and sometimes Varric when they talked. The way his heart clenched and his chest warmed when he was near Liz.

It was all just so … overwhelming, at times.

The rogue rocked on the balls of his feet as he sat crouched near the well in the lower courtyard. The stablehands were saddling up horses in the barn. Cole hummed to himself, listening to the idle chatter of the people at the weapon stands.

"Sup, bruh." A familiar voice greeted, gaining his attention. As the dwarven woman approached, Cole could barely see her from underneath the wide leather brim of his hat.

"Sometimes the dreams hurt, but you don't want to tell anyone. Scared, sorrow—singing within. Dwarves aren't supposed to dream." He pulled, feeling the pain welling up deep within her chest. In the back of her mind. Jade stood above him, looking down at him warily.

"Dude, I just wanted to say hello. No need to go all Dr Phil on my ass."

"Who's Dr Phil?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Jade paused, her eyes nearly crossing as she thought about it. It took maybe a minute before she spoke.

"I…. I …. I don't know." He could feel it inside of her again, the shattered glass behind the crumbling wall. Sometimes the cracks would let light through, but not enough…. Not enough. Her green eyes glazed over briefly before she blinked and shook her head, looking down at the rogue as he sat still. Watching.

"Sup, bruh?" She repeated herself, as if she'd just walked up to him.

Cole didn't say anything, only staring up at her sadly. She was fractured, fighting—filled to the brim with things that should not be. It was hurting her. His fingers gripped his knees tightly, knuckles turning white. The only person he knew to confront about Jade's predicament being Solas.

And…. He was just so angry at Solas. Furious, even.

"….. Uhhh… hey, buddy. You alright?"

"Yes. I am mad at Solas."

"Good. I don't trust that guy, anyway." She crossed her arms and her face turned sour, "I don't know what Serana sees in that bozo. He ain't all that great."

She seemed to have an instinctual feeling for certain things, Cole noticed. Like the time back at Adamant when she pulled the team back when the dragon arrived, saving the Chargers and many more. Or the bad feeling she got when they marched onto the Fortress. He didn't think much of it then, but now that he looked closer…

She knew. That Solas shouldn't be trusted. She just didn't know why.

But her memories were so fractured and frail. Her mind didn't remember but her soul did.

"J-Jade!" A meek voice called out, followed by quick paced shuffling. Serana came to a stop right beside the dwarf, her hands resting on her knees as she breathed heavily. A huge backpack peeked just over her frail shoulders, filled the brim with supplies and items for the trek.

"Hmmm? Oh, took ya long enough. I was just havin' a chat with Lizzie's boyfriend, here."

"W-Who?"

"Cole. Erin's boyfriend."

"Oh. Who's Lizzy?"

"Who?"

They stared at one another blankly before the dwarf scratched her head, "Uh… I'm sorry, I think my lack of sleep is getting to me. Heheh heh..."

"You gotta sleep, Jade! What did I tell you about your health." The little elf scolded, her eyes getting stern as she stared down her friend. "You've been spacing a lot, lately. You know that?"

The warrior simply grinned and shrugged.

* * *

Hours later and he wasn't sure how he'd gotten himself into his current predicament. Serana and Jade were both kneeling behind him as he sat in the grass quietly. The birds chirped happily from the trees above.

He turned and saw Liz ambling toward them at a sedate pace and he felt his face light afire. His hair was being brushed and put into braids by the two behind him and he felt a rush of embarrassment as the little shapeshifter caught sight of him. A playful smirk played upon her face as she sped up, coming up to the trio.

"Jade what-" Liz paused in front of them with a hand on her hip. Cole's blue gaze darted from hers and toward the white flower in his hands. He puckered his lips slightly and brushed the petals when the tips of his calloused fingers. "What are you doing to Cole?"

Oh, Maker. He just wanted to let his friends have fun, since they liked how bright and soft his hair was. Especially since he washed it using the soap that Varric bought him.

"Heheh! We were bored, so we decided to fix 'im up for ya!" Jade cackled from behind him and he could practically imagine the lopsided grin on her face. Their fingers stopped with their ministrations and he heard Serana make a grunt of approval.

"….braids?" Liz's voice sounded odd and he peered up through whatever was left of his bangs, seeing her face turning red from strain. He could hear the amusement and warmth from within, threatening to burst. So, he put on his best 'innocent' face he could. Blinking his big blue eyes up at he woman.

"Am I pretty?" He asked simply, causing the little mage to let out a bark of laughter.

' _He's so cute! Oh my gosh!'_ Liz squealed inwardly and Cole perked up as he heard it filter through their bond. This caused her to freeze and cough into her fist, eyes darting away.

"You're very pretty, Cole. Beautiful, in fact!" Serana beamed down at him as he sat cross legged in the grass. His blue gaze slowly slipped in her direction, "The flowers help."

Still blushing, the rogue stood up and brushed himself off. He could feel said flowers weaved into his white-blonde hair. A few braids had been made here and there, but mostly left alone and brushed neatly as he clipped his floppy hat to his belt.

"What's that?" Liz asked, pointing at the small bundle in his hands. He blinked and shook his head. He'd nearly forgotten! Earlier he'd decided to get her a gift of sorts, in hopes of seeing her happy. Perhaps even get a smile out of her. But evidently whatever Serana and Jade did brought that bright smile out for him to see.

His stomach fluttered in excitement as he handed her a black bundle. No matter, he could never tire of seeing her happy.

"Oh. I have something. For you. I-I..." Cole fidgeted as she stared at the offered object, suddenly feeling self conscious. His last sentence, spoke in nearly a whisper, "I hope you like it."

The young woman seemed to look at him oddly, as if not expecting a gift. She gently grabbed it and brushed her fingers over the top, "For me?"

"Yes." He smiled. "People get sick if they're cold. I don't want you to get sick."

"I'm able to keep myself warm with the use of magic. It's actually rather easy." Liz protested, cheeks aflame yet again. Yes, Cole knew that. But part of him wanted to have her wear something that he gave her. A token of their friendship and… budding relationship? He silently watched her nimble fingers work at opening the gift, revealing a large heavy black cloak with fur trimmings upon the hood. Her hands brushed against the fur.

"You didn't need to do this..." Her voice was soft.

"I wanted to." He stated simply, his mouth opening to say more but it closed before anything else could come out. Stopping himself, wondering why. His words wouldn't work, why? He was left standing there, wishing for once she could read his mind. To see what he wanted to say when his words failed him. How much he adored her. How much he cared. It just …

He watched as she fiddled around with the new cloak, clasping it and pulling its fur lining over her head and ears. Taking in the content and pleasantly surprised look on her tanned face. The sheer amount of joy over such a small thing—it made his heart melt.

The way her eyes lit up when she looked back up at him and nodded, "Thank you, Cole. I really like it!"

"….I know." Now his lips quirked, a ghost of a smile. Or perhaps a grin. He could feel the enjoyment washing over him. She puckered her lips slightly and turned her head to the side stubbornly.

"Cheeky." She muttered.

"Oh my God you two, get a room." Jade's voice filtered through, causing Liz's gaze to snap toward the dwarf's.

"Wait, what did you just say?" Liz asked, catching onto whatever she just said. A million things were shooting through her mind. Curiosity, suspicion—among the most prominent. So it wasn't just him that thought Jade was odd, and not in the usual way. Odd like Liz odd. Different world, odd. Cole watched the two converse, silently telling himself to confront Liz about it later.

"Get a room?" Jade spoke slowly from her spot near Serana, a brow raising.

"No." As far as Liz knew, people didn't say 'God'. It was usually 'Maker' or 'Andraste'.

"God? The Maker? Andraste? What did you want me to say? By the Stone, humans are weird."

"That's not what I meant, it's just-"

"Erin! Cole! It's time to leave." Liz's brother called, followed by the sounds of hooves hitting the dirt as he approached the small group. "What are you guys—Maker what's on your head Cole?"

"I'm pretty." He shot back, rather smugly at that. His forced doe-eyes seemed to amplify the situation as more people took notice of the arrangement on his head. Amusement bubbled in the pit of his stomach at the head shakes and snickers from the group.

At Maxwell's comment, Liz heard a snicker burst forth out of Sera's mouth as she sat atop her horse near the gate. "Look at 'em! Do ya see it?!"

Laughter brought happiness. Happiness meant stronger bonds.

Cole smiled to himself as he donned his giant hat, watching everyone begin to converse amongst one another. Though he remained at the back, quiet. Watching. Observing.

* * *

It was cold. Unusually so. He never had to put up with the temperature changes and the harsh weather as much as they did before. The frigid mountain air bit into his face, causing his eyes to squint. He tried to shield his eyes from the beating wind and snow with his arm, but it did little. He was crouched, grabbing a stray Elfroot leaf that had protruded from the white fluff that blanketed the ground.

Every little bit of the plant helped, which was why he was straggling behind. Picking every last bit. But every miniscule thing added up, over time. He now had a pouch full of them.

Cole's fingers were stiff, even from underneath his makeshift hand wraps he usually wore. His blue eyes trailed up at the retreating forms of his friends as he stood up slowly, a frown tugging at his face. His body felt like it was getting slower. A frown tugged at his face as he looked down at his hands and tried to flex his fingers. One two, one two, they wouldn't listen.

They twitched but wouldn't bend like he wanted them to. They felt tingly…. And weird. Even small occurrences like this seemed nearly baffling to the once-spirit. Before, such things never bothered him.

Not after … not after he remembered—no—realized what he was. The sewers had been damp, dank—body beaten and littered with bruises. The Lord Seeker had proved what he was with the Litany of Andralla. Or, rather, what he wasn't.

' _I'm not real. I'm not—No, I wasn't-'_ The young man's breathing hitched as he fought against the memories. The thoughts and anxiety building in the back of his chest.

He stood stock still with the Elfroot between his numb fingers, eyes glazed over as his past seemed to creep in like a fog. Eating away at all other thought and—small hands wrapped around his. Warmth curled around his skin, the touch slowly peeling him out of the haze that his mind seemed to drag him into. It grounded him. He could feel her, she could feel him.

Cole's fingers twitched and responded on their own, curling around her own to soak up the warmth they offered.

His blue gaze slowly slipped from their intertwined hands onto the small form of Liz, who had that usual passive expression on her face as she stared down at their hands. Almost like she was too _shy_ to look up at him.

"If you continue as you are, you'll get frost bite." Liz informed flatly, dulled brown eyes slipping up to meet his vibrant blue ones. "The human body can be quite frail."

Didn't she, at some point, tell him that the human body could be 'resilient'? Now she was telling him that it could be frail. _More_ confusing things to remember.

Cole shifted and tilted his head, feeling the stringy strands tickle the bridge of his nose as he tried to stare into her. It never worked, until recently. With their bond. Which still was taking some getting used to. She used to always so _good_ at hiding her pain, pushing it down and pretending it wasn't there. It was buried; deep, dark and dusty. Unused to being touched and seen. Forgotten.

But not.

It was there, just out of reach – out of sight. It didn't make sense. The woman hardly ever made sense, now that he thought about it. But…

"Does the human body know when to be strong and when to be frail?" Cole asked softly, seeing their companions slowly shrink as they ambled through the Frostbacks.

"I don't think it quite works like that." Her lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile and he felt his heart pick up it's pace. He blinked in confusion, one of his hands wormed its way out of her grasp.

"Why?" Was the rogue's simple question, fingertip gently grazing the side of her mouth curiously. Now that she allowed him to be closer to her, it was almost instinctual. They sat together, trained together, even seemed to gravitate toward one another when they were in battle. They protected one another.

Her passive mask faltered, cracked, as she stared up at him in confusion. The cold air bit into their skin.

Liz didn't answer and it was making him feel nervous. For what reason, he didn't know. Never, as of late. It was probably a human thing.

"Liz?" Her name slipped passed his lips, a white mist floating out in front of his face. The small woman's body shuddered – though not from the cold – as if she were trying to prevent herself from doing something.

"W-What?"

"Hey, you guys comin' or what?" Jade called in the distance, causing the both of them to turn to look at her. "Have to help us set up camp—quit being a bunch of lazy asses! Even Max doin' more than you lot."

That's when Cole decided to sniffle. Liz's head snapped back toward Cole and she squinted at his attire. Her eyes darted from head to toe before she seemed to get upset.

"….Cole…. Why aren't you wearing your boots?"

He sniffled again, "Boots?" Wasn't his shoes enough?

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Snow is getting in through your—nevermind. I need to take a look at you."

Her demeanor completely changed as she grabbed his hand and began to trudge forth, the snow crunching and shifting as they pushed on. There was a blizzard and it was beginning to get even worse and evidently the group decided to hunker down for the night.

Soon enough, the warm orange glow of a few fires could be seen through the whipping snowflakes as they darted by. Cole began to hear the quiet commands of people as they were finishing pitching tents and getting things settled.

The duo entered camp, Scout Jim and Jade slowly creeping by with a barrel of mead. The cover of some spruce trees offered some solace from the frigid temperatures and unrelenting winds, but only the tents would be enough to stave off the cold.

A small word with the Inquisitor (and a glare at Cole) later and Liz was directed toward her tent. She dragged the rogue inside and made him sit down. He shakily took a seat, feeling instant relief from the outside air.

"Oh gosh, you're freezing!" She hissed as she began taking a closer look at his body. Her hands went to his wrists to his forehead, then down to his feet. Cole began fidgeting and she smacked his leg, "Don't move, you might have frost bite! Jeez, if you—if you were feeling like this why didn't you tell me? If I hadn't noticed you-"

The little woman gritted her teeth as she ran her hands along his feet, the warm glow of her magic flickering in the dim tent.

"It h-hurts. Why d-does it hurt s-so much?" He questioned as she pulled a blanket over his shoulders, a frown marring her face, "I thought-"

* * *

 **Liz**

What on Earth was he thinking?! Going out onto the trek in nothing but his shoes and armor. He didn't even have anything with a warming rune on it. Nothing in sight. Not even a cloak, like he'd given her.

Did he think he was still immune to the temperatures? Was it different when he was a spirit? Who knows. But the worry and perhaps a little bit of irritation wormed its way into her gut as she fretted for the young man.

"First question. _Why_ weren't you wearing boots? We're in the middle of the Frostbacks. In the snow. And you're wearing little shoes!" Liz felt the remnants of her patience wearing thin, the worry building in her gut becoming almost overwhelming. She made him sit down, her eyes glaring at his **shoes**. Cole was sitting on her cot, looking up at her guiltily.

The mage let out a sigh as she took in his haggard appearance.

He didn't answer her question, simply opting for curling into himself on the cot.

"Cole, you need to wear boots in the snow. What were you thinking?" She scolded as she left the tent.

She heard a muffled, "I'm sorry." as she left to grab a few things. She came back shortly after with a small mug of hot steamy liquid.

"Here, this should help." She handed it to him and began rubbing her hands against his shoulders, trying to help his body heat up. Cole simply sat there with the hot mug of tea in his hands, looking up at her curiously.

"Thank y—y—achoo!" He sneezed, spilling a little bit of the tea on his fingers, "A-Ah ouch, ouch!"

"Cole!" Liz fretted, grabbing it out of his hands. The rogue flicked his hands around, a pout on his face.

"Well, it appears you haven't gotten frost bite." _Thankfully_ , went unsaid as she looked up at him and handed him back his mug, along with a handkerchief for the snot that was beginning to dribble from his red nose. He sat there with the tea and handkerchief in his hands as he simultaneously tried to keep his blanket from falling off his shoulders.

He sniffed and his eyes connected with hers.

Cole look absolutely confused. Like he had no idea what to do with all of the objects he now held. Liz sighed. This would take awhile to get used to.

"So you didn't pack for the trip, huh?" She stated more than she asked. If she hadn't stopped and looked for him… she didn't want to think about the consequences.

"I never had to." Cole muttered, eyes darting anywhere but her own. Especially after the young mage sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. To his credit, he at least looked sheepish for his oversight.

"I'm sorry. I would have helped you with that but I assumed Varric or Solas had that covered. Yeah, now that you're human you're going to need to pack some things when we leave the fortress. Your body is different now, Cole." Liz began to explain, trying to put herself in his shoes.

He, no doubt, was having a Hell of a time trying to adjust. Trying to help and adjust to the physical world before was probably a task. But now…. His body was human. He had all of the normal human bodily functions, which was not fun. And he had to get used to that.

"Sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for." She put her hand on his shoulder, brown eyes softening. "I'm sorry if I came off harsh, it wasn't directed toward you. It is going to be a hard transition, I would imagine. But don't worry. I'm here for you, remember?"

"Yes." He slowly locked gazes with her, a soft smile making its way to his lips. "Thank you."

"Look, if your body starts to feel like that again you need to speak up. Everyone knows how much you're going through right now and we won't fault you for having to take things slow." And if they did try to give him shit, she would most certainly make sure they regretted it. Her little fingers brushed through her matted locks, "Should we try to get some rest?"

Cole nodded and scooted over, looking over at her expectantly. Liz felt her face bloom a brilliant shade of red. Here? Share the cot?

"A-Are you okay wi-with that?" She fumbled.

"Cassandra and Maxwell do it." He smiled and leaned forward, suddenly getting into her face. Liz resisted the urge to squeal at his sudden close proximity. Her gaze fixated on the slight curve of his lips, making him look absolutely stunning. Handsome, in fact.

-only to be utterly ruined when a huge glob of snot fell out the bottom of his nose. Liz snorted and grabbed the handkerchief from his hand, shoving it against the bottom of his nose.

"C-Cole—hehe—hahaha! It's _everywhere_." Liz began to giggle, watching as he pulled way and began to wipe vigorously.

"I'm…getting sick." His shoulders seemed to slump at that revelation. No doubt he's seen it happen numerous times. Just never experienced it first hand. Liz patted him on the head.

"It's alright. We all get sick sometime." She turned and pulled a spare blanket from her pack, laying it over her legs as she scooted onto the cot with him. "Alright. W-We will share the cot. It should keep us wa-wa-wa-wa- _aaarm_."

* * *

Liz awoke the next day with a kick to her side, causing her to let out a sharp, "Oof!"

The little mage's eyes snapped open and she coughed, trying to remain silent as to not wake up Cole. A faint sliver of light could be seen shining through the tent flap, denoting approaching dawn. She huffed and turned her head, seeing the young rogue sprawled out across the cot. His arms were spread and his hair was tussled, little braids from the day before still sticking on end. She even thought she saw some remaining flower petals.

It'd obviously been him that kicked her in his sleep. His legs were at an odd angle, slowly pushing her off of the cot.

Cole let out a rather loud snore before snorting and shaking his head, body flipping over and facing away from her. Liz just let him take the whole blanket as he made a small cocoon around himself.

She was left, baffled. The man was a damned bed hog! But the look of him curled up like a little burrito was just too precious, she just couldn't stay upset.

* * *

The following day was spent trying to finagle their way through the fresh snow that the blizzard had brought. Even the horses were slower and Rin didn't seem too thrilled to be wading through the substance. Cole sat atop her as Liz flew on overhead, watching and scanning the area for any possible threats.

Occasionally, the young mage would peer down at her allies and see them hunched over as the wind battered against their forms. But what caught her eye was the sight of Solas approaching Cole. The two rode side by side for a time before the elf turned to speak to the young man. But got nothing.

Liz blinked, feeling confused. She could hear the anger simmering off of Cole as he turned away and nudged Rin into a trot. Away from the apostate.

He was still upset. Why? It just seemed so unlike him.

' _I trusted him.'_ Cole's voice filtered up to her and she had to suppress the urge to stop flapping her wings.

The little mage scanned the open area, seeing nothing for miles, before she swooped down and perched onto Cole's shoulder. He was quiet, aside from the occasional sniffle. Worried, she pushed her mana into her crow feet and pushed her magic into his body. She wasn't happy with what she found.

He was getting sicker. _'At this rate he may even come down with a fever...'_

He seemed intent on staring at their companions. In particular, Jade. He seemed oddly transfixed on her since yesterday. She cawed, gaining his attention. He turned to look at her and she tilted her little head at him, as if to ask what was wrong.

He looked … surprised. Eyes wide and mouth open, before he spoke almost ominously, "The toys. They were alive when the people weren't looking."

An image was pushed into her head of Woody, from Toy Story. Alarmed, Liz skittered to the side slightly and gawked at him. What? How—where did he see this? From her, perhaps? Or-

"….That's creepy, Kid." Varric spoke from beside him, an eyebrow raised. The dwarf was concerned as he ambled near the duo.

' _Where did you hear that?'_ She wondered, staring at him with her little beady eye.

"Her memories are fragmented, fractured, falling away—hard to grasp. Can't breathe—who's that? Lizzie Lizzie don't leave me." He was staring at her dwarven friend as she talked to Serana ahead, a huge grin on her lightly tanned face. Liz felt her stomach turn to ice.

Was he reading her? Or was he reading Jade?

Cole's blue eyes connected with hers, a serious aura about him. As if he was unsure of what to say, or if he _should_ say it. She could sense the hesitance. He frowned, "Sometimes she remembers, but it slips away like water between her fingers. I didn't want to say because I didn't want it to hurt..."

' _Cole, is that...'_ She was like a tiny bird statue on his shoulder, stiff as a board.

' _Elise.'_


	24. How They Came To Be

"How They Came to Be"

Jade was Elise. Or, at least, was at one point. A portion of her sister still lived on. In _this_ world, no less. What an odd coincidence.

Due to this, Liz was clammy and fidgety. Evidently she'd been hiding it pretty well, as no one had yet to confront her about her twitchy behavior. She found her gaze constantly drifting toward the dwarf, Jade. Of whom was completely oblivious of the shapeshifter's concerned staring. Too occupied with joking and rough housing with the fellow scouts behind the Inquisitor's back.

The only person she knew to ask about her most recent revelation was Solas.

She really didn't want to talk to the man, if she were to be completely honest. The thought itself reminded her of their squabble. Cole and Liz were both avoiding Solas since their talk in the War Room days ago. But many many questions burned on the mage's mind. Questions that only someone as seasoned and knowledgeable as Solas would know. She knew he prowled the Fade in search of ancient knowledge. He'd shared this tidbit before, when asked. He was all too happy to inform Liz about the wonders of the Fade and what it contained. Though dangerous, was a very enlightening place to dig around for answers.

The group was stationed near the base of the Frostbacks making their way to a place called the Emerald Graves. There was talk of a small group already having been stationed there and they were to meet them to scout the area. If she remembered correctly, that is. The frigid air was already starting to taper off into a calmer climate as they made their way down, thankfully. The area slowly began to appear greener and the foliage more dense.

The skies were clear, sending warm welcoming waves of sunlight upon their backs as they ambled at a sedate pace. The horses were beginning to get exhausted and they planned on cycling them out when they reached an Inquisition camp.

But Liz was stuck staring at the other apostate as he talked to his lover, Serana. He was so very sweet and understanding of the young elven woman, though most thought her an abomination. She stared up at him with such a soft look in her eyes, long silver locks framing a blushing face. Liz was left wondering if she looked at Cole that way.

She really tried to imagine herself with that dopey look on her face, but shook her head to get the image out of her mind. Ridiculous. She didn't. Couldn't. Right? Oh, Lord.

She turned and huffed, continuing with her work as she undid the saddle from Rin. The Hart grew impatient and stomped her hooves, letting out one of her deathly sounding shrieks. The short girl winced at the high note that the Hart seemed to reach and glared up at her.

"Jeez. I'm almost done." Liz griped, only earning another snort and a shriek. This time in her ear. "I can leave it on, if you want."

Silence.

Damned Hart. She could _feel_ the animal's amusement as Liz worked on the leather bits and bobs. So she was doing it on purpose, huh? This only made the mage roll her eyes at the Hart's antics.

The sun was setting and the group was beginning to set up camp, yet again. Liz mumbled to herself as she finished unsaddling Rin and brushing her. The little mage stretched, groaning as her back cracked.

' _Well, now's a better time than ever.'_ She thought as she saw a certain someone finishing up his conversation with his lover.

"I'm going to head out and set some snares for tomorrow's food." Liz spoke to her brother in a rather dismissive tone. He was in the middle of setting up the firepit with some wood and tinder he'd found. Once she got a nod she turned to Solas, who just happened to be walking by. "Hey, Solas. Do you mind coming to help me?"

The man paused, looking over at her in surprise before he nodded.

The two walked in silence, aside from the crunching of sticks and swishing of leaves as the apostates made their way through the wooded area. The sounds of camp slowly faded in the distance and Liz dug out some supplies from her pack, thinking about how she was to even bring up her questions.

Should she apologize first? But he should, too. Shouldn't he?

A swish of mana filled the air. The young woman whipped around, hand reaching back to her staff. Only to see a befuddled Solas, staring down at her as he finished a familiar spell. He muffled the sound in the area. The young woman forced herself to relax, pulling her small hand away from Athras' staff upon her back.

"Apologies. I've just been a bit on edge as of late." She looked up at the older man, a look of determination washing over her features. She needed to talk to him, eventually. Ask him. She couldn't avoid her friend forever.

"Before you start, if I may?" Solas asked, hands behind his back. Liz nodded, allowing him to speak first. "I would like to begin by telling you that you gave me permission every time I entered your dreams."

"Solas, you don't have to lie."

"I'm not-"

"Look, that doesn't matter right now." Liz stated irritatedly, her foot tapping on the ground as she dropped her backpack from her fingertips. The breach of her privacy wasn't even a blip on her radar compared to the realization she came to just a few days ago.

If Cole was right. If any of the theories she came up with were even close to right? She could care less if Solas knew about her or any other spat they may have in the future. Elise—No—Jade's predicament mattered more.

The young woman had been thinking of ways to talk to him about it. Try to get him alone. How to approach it. All while still pushing back the niggling feeling in the back of her head telling her not to trust him.

"'Lizabeth?" She nearly jumped out of her skin at his voice and she blinked, peeking up at him.

"Oh, sorry. There's just..." A lot. She sighed, "Jade has been having dreams."

That seemed to get a reaction. He seemed surprised, even. "Jade Cadash? The dwarf?"

Hook, line and sinker. Though to be honest, the thought baffled even Liz.

"Dwarves don't dream, right? It was something my Hahren told me about when I… when I first learned about magic." She explained, "But… I have reason to believe that Jade may be like me. I think. But something seems off. I—I needed someone more skilled with these kinds of things. You were the only one I could think to go to."

Liz resisted the urge to turn away from the prying look in the elf's eyes. Asking for her to go on. Give him more.

"This is… this is astounding. From my understanding, they do not dream at all. It is a theory, but I believe it is due to their resistance to magic and connection to The Stone that causes this." Solas was pacing at that point before he paused, "Or perhaps it is because she is a second or third generation of surface dwarves and their resistances are slowly beginning to fade away."

"I was wondering if you could help. With this. Cole said that her mind sometimes makes her forget. And that it isn't good. It's hurting her."

"What makes you think I could help?" He asked and Liz didn't even attempt to hide the irritated look in her eyes at that.

"Don't play coy with me, Old Man. You're a dreamer. It seems part of why this might be happening is … well … because of her dreams." She explained, "Is that not what you specialize in?" _'Breaching privacy and digging into people's heads?'_ She added in her head, but kept quiet.

"You want me to enter and see what the root of the issue is. I thought that you were still upset about my...recent 'breach of privacy'." He didn't even need to make the motions with his fingers for her to know there were air quotes around that last bit. Liz gritted her teeth.

"Not at all, Solas. You see, it's not that hard to just _ask_." She couldn't keep the scathing tone from her voice. The man simply blinked and turned at the sound of the bush rustling at their right. Liz didn't even need to turn to know it was Cole. With a confused Jade in tow.

"Is there a reason you brought me out here—eeugh! Why's _he_ here?" She pointed at Solas accusingly, "I ain't want shit to do with him. Look, man. I put up with you because you're my friends squeeze, but I ain't gonna get all buddy buddy up in here."

"Jade." Liz spoke, stopping her mini rant.

"Wassup, Erin?"

"The body is wrong, her mind tells her sometimes. Wrong, stocky—short. Small, too small. _'At least my eyes are the same...but wait, why did I just think that?'_ Then back again. She doesn't remember. The memories are hurting her, sharp and tearing her apart inside." Cole tried to explain, his hands fidgeting, "But… she doesn't know. We want to help. You."

"Dude. What did I tell you about snooping where you don't belong?" Jade looked upset, that time. "I don't want everyone knowing my problems."

"Well, that's … this is one of the reasons we brought you out here, Jade. Would you hear me out? As a concerned friend?" Liz tried to reason. The stocky woman gave pause before she ruffled her own hair in that way that Elise used to, her big green eyes looking up at Liz.

"You're starting to sound like Serana, sheesh..." She muttered and pouted. Liz almost couldn't continue, a knot forming in her throat at the sight. Now that she looked for them, she did have a lot of Elise's mannerisms. Her speech patterns. Even her passion for music and cooking.

It was like she was staring at a shadow of her sister. It was her, but not her at the same time. From what Cole explained, she… she didn't even truly remember being Elise. She was born in this world as Jade and from then on was a Cadash.

Just thinking about it opened up a wound deep within that hadn't hurt in a long time. Not like this, anyway. Usually it was just dull, distant. But now it was ripping and tearing at a part of her she kept hidden since the accident on Earth.

"Well, I think I might have an idea as to why you're having those dreams. And why you've been feeling that way." Liz coughed into her hand, trying to push back the sorrow that clawed at her heart.

"Good, because I haven't a damned clue. It seems to have gotten worse since I joined with the Inquisition." Jade crossed her arms and Liz had to suppress the urge to wince. Probably not the Inquisition that caused it. It was probably Liz's presence, if anything.

"Do you ever remember any particular details about the dreams? What kinds of feelings have you been having? Any loss of time or inability to recall why you went somewhere?" Solas bombarded the little woman with questions. Though, to her credit, she didn't seem at all put off by them. She seemed lost in her own thoughts.

The wind blew and the leaves above rattled against one another as the sun slowly dipped into the horizon. The trickle of a stream echoed through the trees alongside the serene chirps of birds as they flew overhead.

That was their silence as the young woman pondered, only to peer up after having decided what to say.

"I don't… not really. Just that they were nightmares. I was someplace I've never seen before. There's always fire. Lots of fire." Her brows creased, "I've never really liked fire. Not enough to be scared of it, but it always gives me this uneasy feeling. Ya know? But then… at Haven." A shiver. "Haven…."

' _Because that's how we died.'_ Liz thought to herself solemnly.

"But a lot of the time it's just an overwhelming sense of loss that just seems to suffocate me at times. It worsens when I look into a mirror, because some days I just don't recognize myself. It all feels so wrong." Her hand is resting upon her chin as she looks up at the trio, "But that hasn't bothered me as much as of late. Recently it's moreso the nightmares that get me."

"You seem oddly open about all of this." Solas commented. Though Liz knew that it wasn't supposed to sound like a backhanded comment, the tone of his voice seemed to have ticked the dwarf off as she stomped her foot.

"Don't flatter yourself, elfy. It's not because of _you_. Cole probably already knows and Lizzy here-"

"What?"

"Huh?"

"You just called me Lizzy." Liz pointed out and Jade seemed to freeze, pupils dilating as she looked up at the young mage. She saw Cole step forward in her peripheral.

"Smoke, there's smoke everywhere. _'Lizzy Lizzy, where are you?'_ Getting in her lungs. It was hot, hot. Too hot. Then not. Broken glass, then screaming." Cole rattled off and Liz could feel it reverberating off of him and into her. She felt it, too. The fear, the pain roiling in Jade's gut. Liz knew that look…

Jade began hyperventilating and she groaned, leaning forward and catching herself on Liz's shoulder. "Hey, are you okay? Look at me, okay? Just breathe. It's not real. You're not—"

The little warrior was stuck staring at her shaking hands, sweat beading off her forehead, "Do-Don't. Don't tell mom, okay?"

What? She sounded delirious.

"Don't tell mom that I snuck out—don't. Where-wait, what's going on with me? Why is this happening?" Jade's voice sped up, green gaze unfocused as she peered around, "I'm not here, this isn't real. I'm not—this isn't supposed to-"

"Jade." Solas grabbed her shoulder, but that seemed to put her current state into overdrive.

"You!" She hissed and slapped his hand away, "You stupid fucking, cunt. Fuck!"

Solas' eyes widened in surprise, his mouth snapping shut. Her voice had sounded filled with much more malice than usual. Well. Usually there wasn't malice, at all. Just a general dislike. But right then—

"Jade!" Liz put herself between the two, stopping her before she could do something rash. Which, in hindsight, had been a good idea. Because the dwarf had pulled her halberd off of her back and looked as though she wanted to chop the apostate in half.

The fire in her eyes at that moment told her just how serious she was.

 _ **She genuinely wanted to kill Solas.**_

"Look, we brought you out here to try and help you. I wanted to ask if it was okay for us to help you." Liz blurted out, trying to distract her from her current motive.

"Y-yes. Yes. Yes yes. You can help. Heheh...heheheh, right. My name is Jade, now. Right. Right." Her voice seemed off, hands shaking as she gripped her weapon. Liz stepped forward and put her hand on the tip of her halberd.

Jade opened her mouth to speak, but before she could blood began spilling out of her nose and her teeth began to chatter. First it was a trickle, falling down her sunkissed skin and across her lips. Then, faster. Her eyes seemed to glaze over and she stumbled, face going sheet pale.

"...Don't… don't trust...the.." Jade's words slurred and she fell backward, her weapon clattering into the grass harmlessly. Liz yelled and ran forward, pulling out a handkerchief from her hip pouch and pushing it against her face in attempt to stifle the bleeding.

"Jade! Jade!" She called, then her voice cracked as she screamed her sister's name, "Elise!"

Then Solas was beside her on the other side of her body, hands moving across her face. A green glow erupted from his fingertips and entered the middle of her forehead. It was like everything stopped. Not once since she arrived had she frozen when someone went into shock or was dying. But now? Now, of all times? The little woman simply sat there with her cloth against the dwarf's nose, trying to stop the bleeding. Why was she bleeding so much!?

"'Lizabeth, I need you to—ergh… I'm going to need a lyrium potion." Solas spoke, voice strained as he poured all he had into his fingertips.

"E—Eh...Huh?"

"Lyrium!" He ordered.

"Yes, of course!" She snapped out of it, pulling a small vial out from her pouch and helping him drink it. It had been merely for emergencies. This was one of such times.

"She remembers." Cole muttered from behind her, though in a sad tone. _'She's not supposed to remember.'_

At that, something inside of Liz seemed to clench. Her insides quivered in fear of Elise—no—Jade's life as she lay on the ground. Her body began to shake and seize, eyes rolled back.

As Solas worked on her, she couldn't help but think about what Jade had been trying to say to her. Her words, though slurred, still sounded ominous with warning. It wasn't until she heard Cole from the bond, accidentally relaying her last words.

Something that made her brows raise into her bangs in confusion.

What did it even mean?

' _ **Don't trust the Wolf.'**_

* * *

Cole carried Jade back to camp while Solas seemed to push mana into his hand, which rested upon her sweating forehead. She was limp, like a ragdoll. Liz didn't know what to do at that moment. She was stuck following them with Jade's halberd clutched against her chest.

Once the group entered camp, it was like everyone was in a flurry of movement and panic. Asking what happened. If they were getting attacked. If there were any enemies nearby. If Jade was going to survive.

The questions seemed to filter through the small mage's ears as she followed Solas into a vacant tent.

"C-Clear the way! Give them some room!" She heard the timid voice of Serana call out, pushing back a small crowd of their allies that seemed to form on the outer side of the tent.

"It was simply an accident. I'm going to need some privacy." Solas grunted.

"I could stay and help." Serana voiced only to get a shake of the head from the man.

"I'll be fine, Vhenan."

"But-"

"Go!"

"Y-Yes..." The little elf skittered out of the tent, leaving the trio in silence as they stood above Jade's unconscious form.

"I'm going to need more lyrium. A bowl, some water, and another cot." Solas barked out commands and Cole jumped into action. The once-spirit fluttered around different parts of the tent, gathering the supplies.

This was the healer's tent, yes? Liz's mind was slowly coming down from the adrenaline rush and her body didn't feel so far away. Was this real?

"What are you doing?" The first words out of her mouth.

No answer. Just silence and the dim green glow coming from his palm as he concentrated on Jade.

"What are you going to do to her, Solas?" She asked once more, but his eyes never strayed from his work. Cole set down the last item and turned to her.

"She wasn't supposed to remember."

"Solas." She ignored Cole and stepped forward, but was stopped by Cole's arm.

"She's stable, for now." He then began in a much lower tone, "But I am going to need to repair the damage caused by the trauma."

"Trauma?"

"Yes." He turned and looked Liz in the eye, gaze hardened like steel. It looked as though he was going to say something and give her information, but he didn't. Liz felt anger rouse from her stomach and before she could snap, Cole stepped forward. His tone was the usual rushed sputter of words, though his eyes looked sharper. Concentrated.

"She wasn't supposed to remember. Past, present, future—this life is already enough. But the barrier, it broke. Like a dam welling up and bursting. Too full. Too much." Cole said and Solas turned to him, mouth tight, "I already saw, Solas. You weren't going to tell her. But she deserves to know. About it. About us."

"What are you guys talking about?"

Cole paid her no heed and his eyes hardened toward their friend, "If you don't tell her, I will."

"Very well." He gritted out but sighed, his shoulders slumping as he looked back at the unconscious form of the dwarf on the cot. With another wave of his hand, the tent was muffled. As was becoming a norm for their conversations as of late. A faint blue glow enveloped the inside of the canvas, faintly highlighting the increasingly tired look on Solas' face. "I wasn't keeping the information from you out of malice. I simply do not think you are ready for it, 'Lizabeth."

"It really doesn't even surprise me, at this point." Liz's fists clenched, tapping down on the irritation that threatened to rise at his comment. She really had no right to be upset with him for keeping secrets of his own, did she? "You and I have that in common, you know? Just as there are a many things you do not know about me."

"Indeed." He turned and walked up to the dwarf, his slender fingertips brushing the hair away from her forehead. Liz had to suppress the urge to slap his hand away from her sister. He turned and side-eyed her, likely catching a glimpse of the dissatisfied look on her face. "When someone dies, their soul passes into the Fade as a spirit. Where they can either stay or be reincarnated into another life. Whether that be limited to just Thedas as a whole or other worlds, was unknown to me. Until you, that is."

There wasn't even so much as a crackle of fire outside the tent, anymore. The muffling spell made the silence that much more ominous. She could only hear her own breathing and the thump of her heart as it began to slow down from earlier. She stared down at the man as he continued.

"The Fade is a vast ocean of memories—a conglomerate of moments frozen in time. Much like paintings, if you will. When one passes on, sometimes they are lost. Sometimes not." His eyes were far off before he focused in and looked back at Liz yet again, "When one is reincarnated, there is a barrier that keeps the soul from remembering its past life. The mortal body is just not meant to remember such things."

"….but." He held up his hand, stopping her from continuing.

"It appears as though said barrier has eroded due to an outside source, in the case of Jade here."

"Me? Was this outside source… me?" Liz's voice was soft, disbelieving. Had she truly caused her this pain?

"Perhaps. Everything is pure speculation, at this point."

Solas turned back and began working on Jade, wiping down her forehead and pushing magic into her body. Small amounts, now. Liz stood there, a solemn look upon her face. Her chest hurt, tugging and tearing as she thought about the gradual pain Eli—Jade must have been in due to her presence.

Her thoughts and emotions were like a snowball, slowly getting heavier and heavier as they spiraled out of control. She was about to run out of the tent. Run run and never look back. Run. Because it would be better that way, right? She only seemed to cause more problems than she was worth.

Jade was living proof of that.

Cold fingertips brushed against her cheekbone, wiping away a tear that had fallen. Her brown gaze slipped off of the two near the cot. Cole was staring down at her from underneath his massive hat, which he had yet to take off. Even in the confines of the medical tent.

' _Stay.'_ His eyes seemed to say. She could feel him tugging on their bond. Something he's come to do a lot, as of late. Liz's shoulders slumped and she nodded, suddenly finding her feet interesting. _'She needs you.'_

No. She thought. No she didn't. She needed her to be gone. She needed to leave. Liz refused to look up at Jade. Finding it too similar to when Elise was being hauled away in that ambulance. During her last moments on Earth.

' _But you can help.'_ Cole's hand firmly grasped her own, adamant. _'You promised not to run anymore.'_

But what could Liz do to help?

' _Everything. You've just got to try.'_ Cole's voice filtered through her, giving her resolve back. Liz looked up, meeting his softened gaze. He smiled that cute smile of his that seemed to light up his face. She felt her chest warm as she slowly returned the gesture. Of course. Right. She couldn't just give up like this. It wasn't right. It wasn't her.

Yes. She just has to try.

She stepped forward with that thought in mind. "...Solas."

He was just about finished prepping whatever he needed to do, his body leaning back as he wiped his brow. It was like he was lost in his thoughts, as if he hadn't heard her at all. His gaze locked upon the dwarf who lay on the cot. The little mage put her hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Solas. I would like to help." She said and he turned to look at her, a small frown etched on his face.

"There is little you could do, when it comes to this. I will be unable to completely repair the damage already done. Some of her memory will likely be lost. But I will be able to put up a new barrier." He rattled off, his hand resting beneath his chin.

That and he likely would want to find out how and why it'd happened in the first place. Liz's fists clenched as she listened to him, realizing that her prior trust in the man would likely never be what it once was.

"She's my sister, Solas. However trivial it may be, I would like to be there for her."

"Whoever you think she is, she is not that person any longer. It would be best if you detached yourself from that line of thought." He explained, though not harshly. His tone was soft, but it still felt like Liz got slapped. The harsh reality tearing at her insides.

With that truth, she turned slightly and grasped her arm tightly.

"I…. I know. She's still a friend of mine and I feel partially responsible for all of this." She looked up, "I _want_ to help."

He sighed and turned. Silence followed.

"Alright. I'm going to need to get some rest before we get started. Sleep tonight. I will explain more after." He stood up and stretched, "She is stable. For now. But not for long."

* * *

That night was difficult. She tossed. She turned. Cole was there, but that seemed to do little. It helped, sure. But everything was whirring in her mind. Drowning out all else.

The little mage stared at the top of the tent, barely able to make out much of the details of the canvas in the darkness. She blinked. Blink. Black, blurred— _then she was standing in her childhood home. It was dark outside, the rain falling and pattering against he panes of glass of the shared bedroom with Elise. The room was dim and warm, homey. Not too small. Not too big._ _That darn girl had yet to come back from that highschool dance of hers._

 _It was long passed midnight at that point, Liz sat at her desk with her face resting boredly in her palm. She watched the water droplets slowly hit the window and dribble down from the outside._

 _Lightning cracked and lit it up, illuminating a shadow just outside of her window. She jumped and stumbled out of her chair. It clattered to the ground and a palm slammed against the window, 'Squeeaaaakkkk'_

 _Then a face came into view. Liz breathed and held her hand on her chest._

" _Jesus..." It was just Elise. Her stupid sister. She calmly stood up and walked to the window, opening it. The rain got louder as the girl leaned in._

" _It's about time! Do you know how long I was standing out there looking at you?" The young girl whispered harshly, "It's raining balls out there."_

" _Maybe if you actually got home on time, the front door wouldn't have been locked." Liz griped, eye twitching as she saw the water collecting on the carpet near the window where the young woman now stood._

" _Don't tell mom. Please. Don't tell her I was out past curfew." Elise clasped her hands together and her bottom lip quivered. Though from the cold of the rain or because she was trying to use her puppy eyes, was beyond her._

" _She really does have an uncanny resemblance to Jade, doesn't she?" A voice spoke up from behind her, causing her heart to once against jump out of her chest._ Liz whirled around, eyes widened.

There stood Solas, hands clasped behind his back as he stood next to her desk. His gaze dropped and his fingertips brushed against the book and the homework that lay sprawled across the wooden table.

"Oh. I must have fallen asleep." She spoke aloud, realizing that this was now a dream. She turned and looked solemnly at her sister, who stood near the open window. Frozen in place with her palms clasped together. Begging her not to tell on her.

Sadness curled around her and she turned away.

"Yes. This is, in fact, the Fade." He seemed enamored by the book on her desk, eyes flitting back and forth. Ever the curious one, that man. Perhaps later, when she wasn't angry, she would teach him some things of her world.

"Can you even read that?"

"….No." He seemed baffled as he studied it much closer. She ignored him as he examined her English textbook as she looked around her childhood room. A Death Note poster was pinned to the wall near the door. K-Pop cards and posters littered the wall near Elise's bed. Her side of the room was a complete cluttered mess of games and soda cans around her television. For whatever reason, the games themselves had blurred titles. The one that stood out the most being the one with a white case and a red dragon plastered on the front, propped up near the Xbox.

She turned to walk over to her bed and sit down, the soft surface giving a little as she bounced. There were some pictures stuck to the wall right behind the nightstand, causing a deep sense of nostalgia to wash over her at the sight. Her fingertip brushed against the picture of her whole family sitting together for Thanksgiving. One rare moment, for sure. Everyone looked so… happy.

That's when she noticed her hand was much paler than usual. Erin's body was much more tanned than her original one. So-

"Usually your dreams took place in what you called your apartment. What is this place?" Solas' deep voice broke her out of her thoughts. She turned and looked at him. He didn't even look at all surprised that she looked different in the Fade than she did in the physical world. Typical.

Liz sighed, "This is the bedroom Elise and I shared when we were children." A pause, "Is there a reason you're here, or are you just snooping?"

"Does this upset you?"

"Not anymore…." She sounded tired, "There isn't really much for me to hide anymore, anyway. That was my big secret. Lucky you."

Solas straightened and walked up to the woman. They were now at a similar height, when she was in her true form. The thought brought a smile to her face. She felt more comfortable this way.

"Brace yourself. It isn't going to be happy when I do this." He said and before Liz could open her mouth to ask why or what he was doing, the whole world around her melted away. Everything shifted and turned, the scenery around her mixing into nothing but a blur.

Liz stumbled and fell to her knees. She faintly heard the sound of a thud and a muttered, 'Ow….' at her right. She blinked, then they were no longer inside of her bedroom. She stood up and brushed herself off, looking around curiously. It was a never ending sea of grass, swaying in the wind that seemed to caress her skin. She turned around, but saw little else. A blue sky and knee high grass. Grass everywhere.

Then her eyes caught onto a set of feet poking out of the grass. The owner of said feet then sat up, blonde hair disheveled and a disgruntled look on his face. Irritated blue eyes flicked in their direction.

"Cole?" Liz tilted her head and then turned to Solas, as if to ask why he was there. The elf shrugged.

"It wasn't happy." Cole grumbled as he stood up, rubbing his bottom, "Where are we?"

"It?" She finally asked, looking around before she did a full circle and looked at her friend. "What do you mean by It wasn't happy?"

"The Demon. It watches over you. Did you not hear it's screeches?" Solas appeared perturbed, "As we were leaving, it was trying to say something. But we were gone before it finished."

"I heard it, too. I was dreaming of nugs. They were dancing around and singing about… cake?" Cole tilted his head and scrunched his nose, before he seemed to realize something, "We are dreaming."

Liz smiled and shook her head, "I've learned to tune the demon out. I figure if I ignore it, it won't get what it wants."

"And what does it want?" Solas questioned.

"….I don't know. I never even deigned to ask. It seems kind of possessive, but I'd assumed most demons have that quality." She shifted her weight and put her hand on her hip, "I've been curious about something. About this…. Bond that Cole and I share." Her hand flitted between the two as the rogue ambled up to them.

Solas waved his hand, as if to say 'go on'.

"You said the elves used to do it. Why don't they do it anymore?"

"Lost in time, perhaps. Not all teachings are meant to withstand, no matter how hard we may try." He answered, as if rehearsed, "You've asked this before. Though I doubt you remember."

She shook her head.

"Why are you able to form a bond with Cole, you would then ask." She blinked and then squinted at him as he said this. It was like he stole the words from her mouth, "Which is a good question. Elven bonding is a cultural occurrence. It makes no sense for the two of you to even do such a thing, yes? Especially since you are, presumably, human."

"…..yeeeess."

"Then comes my question. What do you and Cole have in common aside from being human?" He leaned forward, a glint in his eyes. At that point, Liz's arms were crossed as she listened to him talk. The blades of grass rattled and when she didn't answer, he did for her. "You are both not of this world. But… how do you think you came to be in this world, Liz?"

She thought about it. Thought and thought. Her mind whirring as she remembered her last moments on Earth. The last thing she remembered before she arrived…

Liz felt the blood drain from her face. She'd died. And...

Drifting. Floating, for what felt like years. Centuries, even. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. It seemed nonexistent. After she saw her flatline. Her sister. Her sister.

"Your sister. Elise Elise." A lilting voice spoke in her ear. Cole was now beside her as she concentrated, his hand in hers, "Yes, it is okay. We are here, Liz."

She looked up and trees just seemed to manifest around them. The rush of a river splashed behind her. She was about to look up at Cole when her eyes dilated, the smell of cooked flesh invading her nostrils. Horrified, Liz looked around and stumbled back. Only to knock into something solid and crunchy, sending her onto her bottom.

Her eyes were wide and she let out an ear shattering scream, scrambling backwards. Closer to the river.

The area around the three of them was completely charred. Blackened bodies littered the ground, sizzling from what seemed to be a blast of some sort. The middle of the blast being the figure right at Liz's feet.

A small and frail, familiar looking young woman lay on her back. Facing the sky. Her hair was gone and nothing much remained of her face. But it was just enough to see.

"E-E-E-Erin..." Liz gasped and choked, pulling her own legs into her arms and trying to make herself smaller. It was like her eyes couldn't leave the charred form of the youngest Trevelyan. "E-Erin! It's Erin. But—but. How? I'm-"

"Calm. Calm. Breathe, Liz. The smells aren't really there. It's just a manifestation of your memory. Once you realize that, it will go away. See? Like that… yes." Solas spoke slowly as he knelt down next to her curled up form. Cole was sitting on her other side, already holding her hand. Liz took deep breaths.

"Whenever we spoke, it always circled around. Your memories are blurry and guarded from me. Your arrival itself is the only thing I could see, the moment you woke up. Anything before that is vague and missing." She felt Solas shift and look around the perimeter before looking back at her. "What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?"

She didn't like being here. But, it seemed he was trying to help. Help her remember.

"I… I was asleep. Then there was a fire." The words fell out of her mouth and seemed recited. As if they'd been said before. Liz fought against the onslaught of memories that flooded her mind, trying to keep it from swallowing her up. The sounds, the smell, the screaming of her sister.

"Don't resist it, Liz."

She was scared. But Cole's hand against her own seemed to anchor her. Give her strength she didn't think she had.

She remembered the wails of pain. Of her _own_ pain as the skin bubbled. The pain erupted, covering her whole body. She … was remembering everything. _Everything_. Her surroundings faded and—

Her eyes snapped open. The flames around her roared angrily, crackling and consuming everything. They licked at her body and Liz had no control of her body. Elise went crashing through the window. Solas was standing next to her, eyes widened in horror.

There was no blackness then her waking up in Thedas. No. Everything seemed to rewind. Elise's body fell toward her and back into the apartment. Then they were on the floor coughing as the smoke filled the room. Then screaming. Then forward. Then back. Then forward. Rewind. Replay. Rewind. Replay.

She was torturing herself with the memory.

' _I could have done better. I could have saved her. What could I have done right? Do I ever do anything right?'_ Liz's own voice echoed and Solas' words seemed to be slowly slipping away. Behind glass. Fading into the background. He was trying to talk to her, but she only saw his mouth moving. No sound.

She deserved this.

He stepped in front of her and grasped her shoulder roughly.

"'Lizabeth! You're hurting Cole." But _that_ seemed to register. Cole was standing beside Solas with his head in his hands, muttering something.

Worry flooded her as she stumbled forth, vision tunneling.

"No. Cole. No. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" She said as she knelt down next to him. "This was a bad idea. I don't need to remember. I don't need this. Not if-"

"I couldn't help. I couldn't help. I couldn't—I didn't. I killed her." He repeated, like a mantra. "N-No...no, you tried. You tried your best. It wasn't me, it was you. I thought I was you."

He looked up and his eyes connected with hers. Relief. She had to be careful with her negative thoughts and feelings. Especially in the Fade, as they seemed amplified and harder to control. Harder to conceal. They seemed to have an effect on Cole, as well. She couldn't have that.

"This is where you died." Solas stated calmly as he examined the two. He seemed calm. Eerily so.

Probably forced, she realized. But here, it was easier to read him. He didn't show it outwardly, but she could feel the tension inside of him. The worry and fear for them. For Cole. For her.  
But what stood out most of all was his curiosity.

She didn't blame him.

Liz took a deep breath, body shaking. Realizing that she could control this. Whether or not it hurt or replayed. Like her own little personal Hell. And she was standing in the middle of it. "Y...yes. I died here."

"I cannot say I have any experience in this. Not even my wanderings in the Fade have shown me anything remotely close to your situation." He walked up to them, the fire moving around his feet and dissipating. As if it weren't there. "But what I can say, is this must be very traumatic to relive. We must push forth before your mind decides to shut down due to the stress."

"Heh… I take it this has happened before…." Liz felt fatigued, as if she'd just run a marathon. But she fought through it.

"You would be correct. However, I've never been able to see it for myself. This may be in part due to Cole. Or your willingness to show me."

"A-Alright…what do you need me to do?" She stood up and faltered a bit, knees wobbling. There was so much agony and pain connected to this memory. She just wanted—she wanted-

Cole took her hand and squeezed, letting his confidence in her flow through their bond.

Just…. Let it do its work.

She, once again, witnessed her sister die in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Liz was watching with a sort of detached look on her face. She was pushing back everything, trying so hard not to break as she watched the machines flatline.

"You were able to watch, even after death?" Solas sounded incredulous, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Yes." Her voice was dull, devoid of emotion.

"You loved her so much you stayed." Cole's voice broke through, sounding almost hurt. Like his own heart ached for her, "Love. You care so deeply, dedicated—devoted to those you love."

Then the memory shifted and she was standing before her sister, after she'd died. It was green everywhere, the fog like a haze. Rocks floated around them.

"I just... I just want to... Sleep." Elise's voice sounded odd, and it resonated through the empty chasm they were in as she stared at the fading form of her sister.

"Wait. Don't leave. I can't-" Liz's hand reached out to grab her shoulder, but the air shifted and it was like smoke got disturbed. Her sister's form slowly dissipated into a black mist as she started getting pulled toward the darkness beyond. The black. The ... The.

That's right. At that point, Liz could still feel her sister. She'd followed, blindly. Trying so hard to still be there for her sister. It was her purpose, her responsibility as an older sister, to make sure she was okay. To make sure she was safe.

She hadn't wanted it to end like that. Never like that.

So…. She wandered and wandered. Seraching. Everything was so muted, quiet, as Liz floated aimlessly. The scenery around her had constantly been awash with hues of green. Sometimes she would view memories that didn't feel like her own. Sometimes she would help people and teach them about their purpose in life, help them remember to keep moving on. She would often watch and watch, looking for that one person.

"I couldn't find her." Liz's voice nearly broke, remembering the hopelessness that overcame her after years and years of searching.

They were in the Fade, she knew. This. This was where she was before she arrived in Thedas? For how long was she here?

"There was no purpose. No reason. Nothing. Nothing. Sister is gone. Family out of reach. I had...I had….no." Cole mumbled and looked over at Liz, "You lost your purpose."

"My…. Purpose..."

"Yes. Your Purpose. To protect, to provide. Playing over and over. Even then, torture. Purpose—useless. Despair. Doubt." His hand pressed against her chest just above her heart, "You aren't useless."

Liz felt tears form as she clenched her jaw. She hadn't wanted to pass on. She didn't want to leave her sister. She wanted to provide. To protect. It was, what she felt, was her purpose.

"After that… I heard a call. In the distance. I remember. I remember." It was itching in the back of her mind. "She sounded so much like me. She was …"

Liz turned around and saw the river where Erin and the burnt bodies had been, but instead it was just Erin. She was laying on her back calling out for help. A white form manifested beside her, looking neither male nor female. It knelt down and put its hand upon her chest.

Erin was battered and broken, crying as she laid next to the riverbank. The form tilted its head.

"They're coming." The young girl coughed, blood sputtering forth. "I-I... Don't want... My family..."

The world shifted and she was seeing through the eyes of that featureless being next to Erin. Her 'hands' glowed as she floated to the ground. Kneeling before her, "Shhhh... You'll be fine."

"P-please... My brother." Erin reached out to Liz, hand passing through her body.

"Where is he?" She asked, knowing what it felt like to want to keep a sibling safe. To _need_ it.

"Keep him safe."

"What? Wait. What are you-" the young girls eyes became dull, "Kid, hey. You can't just..."

Liz fretted, glowing hands fumbling around upon the young girl's chest. Trying to check her vitals. It was at that moment she realized just _how_ battered the little woman was. She was also sporting numerous stab wounds and—

She worked for the hospital as EMS and she's seen many things before. But she'll never quite get used to seeing someone so young die.

* * *

 _'She died and I couldn't save her. I couldn't protect her.'_

Just like her sister.

The voices in the distance were now right next to her, weapons being unsheathed and yells being heard. The only thing the bandits encountered when they caught up with their victim was a tall glowing person, too bright to see. A featureless white shadow that screamed at them, a burst of energy shuddering through the air. This sent them careening back and knocked them unconscious.

Erin had wanted to be stronger, to be better. To be able to control her abilities so she could keep her brother safe instead of hurting him. Instead of scaring him. But she wouldn't get to do that. _Because of them._

She'd ended up getting caught by bandits. Bandits who recognized the Trevelyan family crest and decided to use the poor young girl for ransom. She must have been so scared…

Erin, the reason Liz was even in this world. Erin, the little girl that just wanted to protect her brother. To protect her family. To live.

 _'She died and I couldn't save her. I couldn't protect her.'_

Her own voice echoed in her mind as she stared down at the charred corpse of Erin. She looked at her hands. No, not her hands. Erin's hands. Even now. Even…

She wasn't Erin. She knew that, before. But now. She just…

She wasn't _inhabiting_ Erin's body, like she'd originally thought. She was like some creepy copy of Maxwell's sister. She'd manifested into this world because of Erin. Drawn to her because of her unfortunate circumstance.

"You're like me." Liz looked up, seeing the awe on Cole's face. "They threw him into the dungeon and forgot about him. He starved to death. I came through to help…. And I couldn't. So… I _became_ him. Cole. You. You're like me."

"I …" She turned to Solas, "I'm… not human?"

He didn't even look surprised at this revelation.


End file.
